Of Goblins and Kings
by Storms in my Coffee
Summary: Jareth watched the girl jump up. She was surrounded. The snakes crawled across her feet and legs. She turned her eyes to him and for a mad second he thought she might fling herself into his arms. Instead, she looked him in the eyes and surprised him with her words."You have no power over me." The King smiled and tilted his head. "Would you like to make a bet, Sarah?"
1. prologue

Prologue

Their forces were growing. The hordes swelled along his borders and overflowed into the trees. It was a ragtag army, dull-witted and slow, but it was the numbers that would matter in the end.

The King watched them without being seen, invisible to their dead eyes. His strategic gaze flitted over the ghouls, measuring their scale, cataloging their weapons. _Could there really be so many?_ He thought to himself. _Thousands upon thousands!_

His nostrils flared as the stink of corpses became suffocating. He turned his head and focused more on the slack-jawed creature's artillery and less on the flesh peeling off their bones.

They appeared to have found a sensible method for categorizing their steal. Five stacks, high as houses, lined the makeshift base. In each lay one particular type of weapon. The King spied swords, axes, maces, flails, and forks. Farther away in a less extraordinary pile lay the mundane instruments of war, knives and such.

He had no idea they would be so well prepared. Silently, he acknowledged his own ambivalence. He had left her too long to her own devices. He knew of her power and yet underestimated her dedication to his destruction. He should have known better. The King shook his head and pushed down the worry that began to build in his chest.

Then he saw the witch. Or, to be more exact, he saw the springy red coils of her hair as she walked away. The King felt his skin prickle in revulsion and he reflexively wiped his mouth with the back of a long white hand. He could still taste her. He fought the urge to spit.

Knowing that with her present he was not likely to discover anything else, but rather ran the risk of being discovered, the King willed himself away from the battlefield.

Gone were the green hills and trees. Instead, he found himself inside facing his throne. The red war room was warm in contrast to the open air and the King moved closer to the blazing fire at its core. He adjusted to the instant travel with ease.

The room was silent, unnaturally so, as the occupants turned to face their king. He raised a hand and motioned for them to continue their discussions. Then the room erupted in a cacophony of voices, as each strived to be heard over the other.

The King kept his eyes on the flames in front of him. His thoughts were a riot. One idea quickly replaced another as he evolved a plan for the protection of his people. He knew it was insane. He knew it would have to be defended. As he gazed upon his advisors, he knew they would struggle to understand the extremes of the situation. But he also knew he was their king. His word was law and his magic was beyond what their minds could possibly comprehend.

The King strode to the massive ivory throne at the top of the stone stairs and stood before it. He raised his arms for silence and waited for all eyes to turn his way.

"Goblins, kinsmen, trusted council. I have troubling news from the Flailknock Plains. Circidella has gathered her army of ghouls and she prepares for battle."

A loud cry rang out amongst the gathered and the King waited patiently for it to simmer.

"Her numbers are great." He continued gravely. "Her weapons are greater. The witch is cunning, and she uses her magic to animate the dead for her cause."

The murmurs rippled again across the goblins and in the air was the tangy taste of panic. One of the many spoke in a trembling voice, "What will we do sire?"

The King smiled then. His beautifully terrifying eyes glinted and a shiver went through the crowd. The King was frightening when he smiled.

"We must increase our army." He answered as if it were the simplest thing in the world.

The goblins turned and whispered to each other again. Grimblin Fry, his most trusted advisor and truest friend, stepped forward leaning heavily on a twisted oak branch.

"Jareth, we have already gathered our troops. There are no others."

The King's smile widened and he gave a small, breathy laugh. "Oh, there are others, my friend."

He sat down on his throne looking incredibly pleased with himself and Grimblin Fry shook his head in wonder. "But who, sire?"

At this he leaned forward on his throne and placed his elbows on his open knees, folding his fingers to his chin.

"Do you know how the witch acquired her army? They are not all raised from the graves of Alchenmians. No, she has reached her greedy little hands into the mortal realm. They are men!"

Shocked intakes of breath and curses rang into the rafters and the room seemed to heat up even more.

"No! She wouldn't!" Grimblin whispered, stricken and kissing the bones that hung from his neck.

The King laughed, "Oh, she would!"

The old goblin looked up at his friend and shook his head in defeat. "Then, all is lost."

The King sat back in his throne and crossed his leg, planting a foot on top of a knee.

"You give up too quickly, Grimblin. Is your old age killing your desire to fight?"

"Never, highness."

The gleam in the King's eyes grew until there was a fire within them and he gazed upon each goblin, in turn, forcing them to peer into his soul. Lastly, he turned to the one whose council mattered most. "Good. Know this, we shall not be defeated this day or any other."

The crowd nodded in agreement.

"What is greater than Dissolution magic?" he asked of them, speaking of the magic the witch so carelessly used.

The crowd just shook their heads, but the old goblin spoke up hesitantly, "Nascency magic. But you can't mean too…"

"But I do." The King interrupted, pushing a silvery hair back from his eyes. "Let the witch have her decaying hordes. Let her march them to their second graves. We will have strong warriors. New. Fierce. And born from the pure hearts of babes."

Grimblin Fry stepped closer to the throne, as near as he dared, and stared beseechingly into the unnerving gaze of his king. "We cannot steal children. We have made vows. If we recant, we are no better than the witch!"

"Of course not." The King answered then touched his chest through his flowing white shirt front. "Am I a monster?" He asked, giving a knowing scoff when his question was greeted with silence.

"We will take the abandoned, the discarded." He persisted. "Open your ears, can you not hear them cry out to you?"

The King was again met with empty stares, so he continued. "Well, I can. And I will answer their calls. Give them new life. Make them one of us."

The goblins appeared to think over the plan. Smiles and nodding gestures started to spread throughout the steamy space and the King felt that perhaps he had been mistaken to doubt his subjects. Then Grimblin Fry asked a simple question that had no simple answer.

"Do we have time to do this?"

The King looked down at him with an unreadable expression, "We shall make time."

Standing again, the King moved to the balcony and threw open the doors. Cool air washed over the room and the fire began to wave, sending shadows dancing upon the walls. He turned to look at his subjects with a raised brow, then he flashed them all a wicked grin.

"You might want to cover your ears."

He spun around and stepped onto the balcony. Raising his arms out to his sides, he rose elegantly into the air. The wind began to intensify and swirl around him, whipping at his long, sterling blonde hair wildly.

His hands turned upward and he brought his fingers in on themselves.

Then the earth began to shake.

The goblins fell to their knees, palms to the ground. A giant rumble shook the room and vibrated against the walls. Grimblin Fry stood alone, clutching his branch for support. He never took his eyes from the levitating Goblin King.

He was moving his arms hypnotically, waving them as though conducting an orchestra. But instead of music, there was a symphony of crushing rock and crackling tree. The clay of the ground rose with the wind and mixed with the water of the seas. Roots shot from the black dirt and twisted into wire, grasping for the sky like newborn saplings.

The King reached higher in the air. The space around him filled with twisting winds heavy with rain and sand as he held them back.

With his magic on full display, he brought his hands close and rotated them around an invisible force in his palms. He pulled the moisture from the clouds and with a wiggle of a finger, brought the fire from the pit in the center of the room, watching as it cometed across the sky.

With each turn of his wrist, he brought the elements together and began to create. As the sky trembled, the earth began to take shape.

First, there was brick, then wall, and road. Then there were bubbling lakes and crumbling cliffs. With a flick of his thumb, he created doorways and divots. Long hedges crept across grassy hills and formed impossible twist and turns.

Grimblin Fry watched as Goblin City became the center of what looked to be an enormous maze.

It was magnificent in its design. Hopeless with its complexity. The walls stood ridiculously high and bled into each other in the most ludicrous manner. The old goblin became dizzy just staring at it. And the King was not finished. He expanded it and stretched it out for as far as the eye could see in every direction.

Then, with his work complete, the King lowered himself to the ground, placing his feet softy on the balcony below.

He strode back to his throne and rested upon the satin cushions.

Slowly, the goblins rose and rushed to the window, gasping as they looked out onto the new structure. They began to shout in excited voices and slap each other on the back.

Grimblin Fry turned to his king and shook his head, smiling. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

The King looked over at him, his eyes showing just the slightest hint of exhaustion. "Yes. I truly did."

The smile wavered a little on the goblins face as he questioned slowly, "And you think it will keep them out?"

The King gave a lop-sided smirk and answered quietly, "For now. We shall have to get to work soon."

"You mean find the babies." The old goblin prodded.

The King leaned back on his throne and threw a leg over the arm, as casual as could be, and smiled.

"Never fear, old friend, for my kingdom is great and my will is strong."

With that, Jareth the Goblin King looked out over the balcony, down across his land and grinned at his creation. Circidella would be fuming, her army in chaos. She would not be able to reach his castle with her dead soldiers now. Even with her impressive powers, she would never be able to maneuver through what he had designed. No one would. In fact, he thought with a laugh, he defied _anyone_ to try to defeat his labyrinth and live to tell the tale.

 **A.N. I do not own the characters or story of Labyrinth**

Hello readers! Thank you for taking the time to read my first Labyrinth story, my second story over-all. I hope you enjoyed the prologue. I have a definite plan about where this is heading. Please let me know if you have any questions. I could use some feedback here as well, since I am in pretty new territory! Let me know what you thought! As writers we only grow through interaction, so as always thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! - S


	2. Chapter 1: Of the Babe

Chapter 1 : Of the Babe

The stones under her feet were slick with sludge and the traction of her leather boots failed more than once. The slippery alley was not the ideal road to travel but it was the only passage between the busy street and the Colburn House.

She eyed the building up ahead. _Even the bricks looked tired_ , she thought absently, noting how they crumbled and broke off in chunks around the foundation. The gray and beige structure seemed to lean forward in exhaustion and Sarah sidestepped large rocks that blocked her path.

Before she could raise a hand to knock, the door swung open and tiny arms slipped around her waist. The informal greeting was followed by cheers and sticky fingers pulling at her hands.

Sarah laughed softly as she returned the hugs and patted tiny, dirty heads.

"Alright children, alright. You'll make me drop my basket." Sarah pulled her heavy wicker basket closer to her chest as she moved into the small foyer. All was as she remembered from the week before. Not a speck of dust had been disturbed in the tiny room. Sarah frowned slightly as she attempted to move down the hallway. If anything the filthy hovel seemed even dirtier.

Turning her gaze back to the children, Sarah asked in a mild tone, "Where is your Mistress?"

Thomas, the eldest of the four children present spoke boldly. "She's gone to fetch another baby, Miss."

Sarah bit her lip and looked over their heads, not quite hiding her irritation. _The woman was relentless_.

"Well then, we shall just have to start without her. Who's first?"

Sarah stopped within the parlor and sat down on the faded floral sofa. The children began to jump up and down and speak at once. Sarah smiled and pointed to Anna. The smallish girl stepped forward with a large grin on her freckled face.

"And how are you today, love?"

The girl held up her finger and pushed it toward Sarah's face. Blinking, Sarah pulled it closer and twisted it in the light. A tiny wooden splinter was wedged between the nail and the bed.

"Oh, poor darling. We'll have that out in an instant."

"And then the basket?" The girl asked, hopefully. Her pale eyebrows lifted as her eyes grow. Sarah smiled softly at Anna's hopeful expression.

"Then the basket." Agreed Sarah, reaching for the satchel that hung down at her hip and removing her tiny medical tweezers. The girl was as still as a statue but whimpered slightly as the wood was removed.

Sarah kissed Anna's hand when the small procedure was completed and nodded to the basket. The little girl screeched and ran for her treat. Anna dug through the objects within and pulled out a plump and juicy orange.

"I wanted that!" A boy named Jonathan whined, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Me too!" Came the chorus of voices behind him.

Sarah shook her head and held out her hand for his. "There are plenty more. Time for your examination, Jonathan. Do you have any injuries?"

The boy shook his head but at the same time pointed to a red gash on his knee. The cut was swollen and slightly scabbed.

"Oh, Jonathan." Sarah sighed and removed two bottles from her bag. "Looks like we'll have to amputate."

The boy shot her a shocked expression. Sarah laughed and ruffled his hair. "I'm teasing, darling. Hold still, this won't hurt at all."

First, she washed the wound, then she sterilized it. Finally, she placed a bandage around his knee cap and tied it tightly. "There, have your treat. But please, if you scrap your knee again, you must keep it clean."

The boy barely heard her words. His face was deep within the basket.

The other two children had similarly mild pains that were easily treated by the contents of her small medical bag and she breathed a sigh of relief as she put away the last of her supplies. Looking up from her efforts, she watched as Ingrid, a girl of seven, attempted to place a necklace of tiny pink beads around her throat. The reward shined against the girl's pale skin.

Sarah walked over and turned the child to face the long mirror that hung over the soot-covered fireplace. She placed the string around Ingrid's delicate throat and rested her chin on the top of the girl's head, gazing at her in the mirror.

"You look lovely, Ingrid."

The girl beamed up at her with big hopeful eyes. "Do you think I'll be as pretty as you, Miss Sarah?"

Sarah laughed gently and turned the girl to face her. "You can do better than _that!"_

"Ha! There's a laugh!" Came a deep, nasally voice from the doorway. Sarah turned a carefully controlled look to the woman standing behind her.

Mistress Colburn was bouncing a tiny toddler on her hip and seemed completely oblivious as to the effect of her words. Ingrid's eyes had dimmed and she scooted closer to Sarah.

"Children, I'm afraid I must speak with your Mistress alone now," Sarah spoke authoritatively and the little ones, hastened by her tone, scampered off with only the slightest of moans. She waited until the last child had rounded the corner before turning to the woman in front of her.

"Mistress Colburn," she began, only to be interrupted as the woman shoved the sniffling baby into her arms.

"Take a look at this, since you're here. Been dripping since I picked 'im up!"

Sarah stared down at the child. He was indeed _dripping_. He sniffled and rubbed a tiny hand against his nostrils and up into his pink veined eyelids. Sarah pulled his arm down and bent to retrieve a soft cotton handkerchief from her bag. She began to pat the baby's face gently and removed the thick, crusty buildup on the side of his right eye. The child reached for her hand and closed his little digits around her fingers. Sarah felt a tug at her heart and she smiled down at the sweet babe. She turned her eyes to the woman again and found her lounging on the couch.

"Mistress Colburn, "she began again, "this baby has an infection. He must be kept away from the other children, given plenty of warm liquids, and he must be _kept clean_." The last words were said with slow deliberation.

The woman stared back at her and shook her head. "Trouble 'elready! Shoulda just said no to takin 'im. But I needed the money." She stared hard at Sarah and added. "Someone's gotta take care of these kids!"

Sarah looked away in distaste and, still holding the child, bent to pick up her belongings. "I am overdue at the Glenn's."

"Oh ya? Heard they sick there too. Mind you don't go picking up no nasty bug. Easy ta get sick, nowadays."

Sarah stopped her work and turned back to the woman, seizing the opening to talk once again about the children's hygiene. _If only she could find a way to reach the woman._

"Yes, you are so right, Mistress Colburn. You and I both know how important it is to battle sickness. If only others were as aware as we, about the importance of cleanliness."

The woman straightened and nodded, vainly smoothing out her skirt with a flick of her hand.

"I am truly shocked by the state of things at some of the houses I visit." Sarah continued. "To think, in this day and age, children go to bed without bathing or even washing their faces."

Mistress Colburn humphed and nodded, but turned her eyes away to the frayed fabric of the couch.

Sarah leaned in a little and spoke coldly in a firm whisper, "If you ask me, the state should take away their special licenses."

At this, the woman swung her head up swiftly and stared at Sarah. She let out a heavy breath and nodded slowly, moving to stand.

"Too true, Miss. Sarah. Too true." Then she reached for the baby and started heading to the door, silently demanding the girl to follow. Sarah took the hint and scooped up her belongings.

As she reached the hallway a throng of voices called out their goodbyes. She turned and waved at the children and stepped out the door, pausing to request a follow-up visit to check on the baby the next morning.

"Course, Miss." The woman responded and closed the door heavily.

Sarah sighed at the failure of her attempted intimidation. Then, faintly, she heard a voice through the door.

"Get you to the baths, dirt bunnies! I want to see those faces shine."

Sarah smiled brightly as she quickly descended down the steps. Her heart felt a little lighter at her tiny victory.

* * *

In a red room warmed by a waving fire and covered in comfortable darkness, The King smiled as well. He had been entertained by the little show behind the mirror _._

 _Peculiar woman_ , he thought to himself as he crossed a leg over the arm of his ivory throne, his thoughts briefly going back to her gloriously intelligent blue eyes. Jareth's smile widened wickedly and he ran a finger over the curve of his upper lip. He almost felt sorry for the other female. Shaking his head, he placed his chin in his hands and turned his attention back to the child, not allowing his mind to wander again.

The babe would do. He would do very well.

 **A.N I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! I am so glad you have returned for another chapter. So, now you have met our lovely Sarah. She definitely has her hands full. What are your thoughts about the changes to her character? Let me know and you might get a big juicy orange!

I hope you are enjoying the story so far! I would like to thank those of you who have reviewed. In particular, FreakinGodzilla, Honoria Granger, and bluebellwoods. I really appreciate you taking the time to give me your feedback, it helps so much! I also want to thank those of you who have messaged me privately. I love to hear from you! As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/ or favoriting! – S.

* As you guys might have noticed, Sarah is not in modern times. I have left it ambiguous as to what country she is from though, adding a little from here and a little from there. So let your imaginations run free! I will explore more of how long it has been since the prologue for Jareth soon. Thank you Honoria Granger for the feedback!


	3. Chapter 2: The Power

Chapter 2: The Power

It had been a fitful night and the Goblin King rose from his bed feeling more tired than when he laid down. Jareth never needed more than two hours of sleep but even that had been hard to come by.

The child was invading his dreams. It called to him louder than any before. It followed him with a distracting persistence in the day, but during the wee dark hours of the night, it seemed to grow even more insistent.

Jareth moved to the mirror again, for what seemed to be the hundredth time, and watched the infant whimper in the girl's arms. It was ill. He frowned as he watched Sarah attempt to feed the agitated child. It simply swatted the milk away and rubbed its tiny face against her breast. Jareth frowned deeply. _It needed to eat to regain its strength for the journey._

For three days Sarah had cared for the baby. When she returned the day after her initial visit for a "follow-up", she discovered the boy's health had not improved. Jareth had looked on as she maneuvered the other female, the despicable one with little regard for hygiene, into allowing her to take the sick child.

He had to admit, he had been relieved to see her persistence in the matter. The child desired the intervention. The Goblin King heard it in its call.

Since then, the babe had been less desperate in tone, though it continued to demand the Goblin King's constant attention.

Sarah seemed weary as she moved to sit on a nearby chair, cradling the child close. The King's frown deepened as he noted her fatigue with mild interest. _She needs sleep as well._ There were dark circles under her brilliant eyes and her thick black hair hung loosely about her shoulders in forgotten ringlets.

Jareth allowed his thoughts to linger on her. She appeared to be a sort of healer, though her gifts were limited to the physical. She administered potions, thick and foul by the looks of them, and forced them on the child with a determination Jareth could not help but admire.

Sarah seemed to genuinely care for the child. The girl talked and read to it endlessly as she rocked its tiny body against her chest. The King smiled mischievously as he recalled her attempts at singing. _Not everyone has that gift_ , he thought, shaking his head in amusement.

The Goblin King placed a hand on the side of his face and rubbed his upper lip with a long white finger. The child finally slept. It was peaceful for a moment. The girl sighed. Visibly relieved, she laid her head back on the chair. Jareth watched as her lashes drifted shut.

A noise behind him drew his eyes from the peaceful scene and Jareth turned to look upon his old friend.

"The child?" Grimblin Fry asked, without preamble.

Jareth nodded and turned back to the mirror.

"Still making all that fuss in your head?"

The King nodded again and pointed to his temple with a small smile.

The elderly goblin walked forward slowly and looked up to the ornately gilded mirror that hung beyond The King's bed. He squinted in the darkness to make out the shapes and shook his head at the sight of the two humans.

"Lot of work for one child."

Jareth turned and crossed his arms. "Not this child. This child is worth the work, old friend."

The goblin moved closer to the mirror and looked on more intently. "Is that so, Jareth? Looks like an ordinary mortal to me." He paused. "Now that other one…"

The King raised an arched brow and rocked back on his heels. "Yes?"

Grimblin Fry rubbed his chin and moved his head up and down slowly. "Can't quite place it, but she's got something…unique."

The King laughed deeply and placed a hand on the small goblin's shoulder, recalling the fierceness in her eyes as she claimed the child. _Yes, she is unique_ , he thought coolly. "You have no idea. Let us hope we can avoid her when the time comes to take the babe."

Jareth waved a hand before the mirror and the images disappeared. Moving to a hook by the door, he grabbed up his long black cloak and swung it around his great width of shoulders. "Come, we have plans to oversee. How are the troops?"

The old goblin struggled to catch up with his king's long steps. "They are marvelous. Young, strong, pure of heart, just as you said. Each new recruit is an asset to our forces."

The King paused and stared down at Grimblin Fry. "But?"

"But, they must be trained. We need weapons, we need generals. It has been a year since the birth of the Labyrinth and I fear we are running out of time."

The Goblin King focused his piercing purple eyes on the goblin and Grimblin had to force himself not to fidget.

"And why is that?"

The goblin swallowed and lowered his gaze. "There have been defectors. Old allies."

"Who?" Thundered The King, causing the marble floor to tremble under Grimblin's feet.

The old goblin grasped his stick more firmly in his hand. Jareth could be vicious in his anger. Though he knew The King would never injure him, he feared what the ramifications would be to those who dared instigate his wrath. There was no use for it though. Jareth had ways to discover the truth on his own. By means the goblins could not possibly understand, he would find the answers he sought.

"Sire, it is High Lord Ludo. He is leading his clan away from you. I have heard tell that he plans on joining the witch." The goblin placed his weary head in his hand, covering his face with a shaky palm. He dared not look up at his King. He knew what he would find if he did.

Sparks of light shot out around him and Grimblin heard the rumbling of thunder in a distance. Then an unnatural wind blew from nowhere with the word "Ludo" folded in its gales. The old goblin peeked up to find his King was no longer alone but facing the long, stern face of the High Lord.

All mirth had left his sovereign's eyes. The King turned and waved an arm, instantly transporting them all to his throne room. He moved away from the two stunned creatures before him and sat elegantly on his ivory seat. Jareth leaned back casually and threw a booted leg over the arm.

He waited in silence, gazing down on the accused traitor. When the seconds seemed to stretch forever, and the tension in the room appeared ready to burst, The Goblin King spoke. His voice tilted in a deceptively mild drawl.

"How long?" He asked slowly. The air vibrated at his words and caused both listeners in front of him to start.

The High Lord didn't dare ignore The King's words, but he struggled to find his own.

"My, my king. Surely, you do not suggest…" His breath was stolen then and his eyes bulged slightly as an invisible pressure wrapped around his throat.

The King did not speak, only raised a brow.

The High Lord gasped and waved his arms wildly. "I have no wish to lie to you, My King."

Jareth's eyes tightened into purple slits and he spoke softly. "A wise choice."

"I, I have been communicating with the witch since those retched walls went up." The High Lord admitted, panting frantically. "I am not alone. There are others." He stopped and covered his mouth, shocked at his own loose tongue.

"Is that so?" The King asked innocently. The dangerous glint in his eyes burned brighter.

The traitor shook his head, never removing his hand. Beside him, the wise old goblin stepped away, allowing room between them for whatever was to come.

"Care to tell me of the others?" The King asked in a deadly whisper. "Or, perhaps, what you have been whispering to Circidella?"

The High Lord shook his head again and squeezed his eyes shut.

"No? What shall we do, then?"

The High Lord refused to speak.

"What shall we do, with a High Lord who behaves like a mindless brute and the boulder headed clan that follows him, hmm?"

A sinister smile spread across The Goblin King's beautiful face as he rose from his throne. He waved his arm again and Grimblin Fry was amazed to see the three of them standing before the entire Ladoith Clan. Hundreds of bewildered eyes stared back at their king in shock, filling the throne room with frightened murmurs.

The King ignored the newcomers and turned his steely violet eyes on the guilty malefactor before him.

"High Lord Ludo, you are accused of treason, against your land and your King. As punishment, I sentence you and your co-conspirators to the walls you love so _dearly_."

Ludo's eyes widened in fear as The King turned his back. Then, as though in an afterthought, he paused and said over his shoulder. "Say your goodbyes, for soon you begin your punishment."

Great cries broke out across the room. Grimblin Fry watched as the clan held on to each other and wept. He turned to Jareth and silently begged for mercy for the guilty. The Goblin King merely flashed his eyes, giving an infinitesimal shake of his head.

Then he lifted a hand and the High Lord began to rise.

Before the eyes of his clan, he folded over with a painful moan. Thick fur began to sprout out of his skin and horns ripped from his skull. His face widened to make room for massive jaws and his tongue rolled out through his teeth. His mouth made a sticky sound.

He landed back on the ground and grunted. Looking down at his paws, he made indistinguishable noises and turned frantic eyes to his clansmen. The King shook his head and raised a palm.

"No, Ludo, they will not be listening to any more of your poison."

The King motioned again and the clan all began to lift off the ground. Bent over, head to feet, they began to twist and turn. Their skin hardened and turned grey. The group let out loud and mournful wails before the throne. Their bodies crushed and compressed until they were no longer the shape of living things. They landed heavily to the ground and Ludo groaned as he looked upon the rocks that had once been his friends and family.

The King drew his palms together and bent his head over them. When he lifted his piercing gaze the rocks rose as well. The heavy Ladoith clan shot out over the open balcony with dizzying speed, barreling past the city walls and landing scattered throughout the Labyrinth.

"Guards," Jareth called, and two small armored goblins stepped forward. "Escort our old friend to his new home, and make sure he is comfortable." He said with a frown.

The giant brute followed behind the goblins with his head hung low, silently giving in to his punishment. Grimblin Fry waited until the group left before turning to his King.

"Cruel." Was his only word.

Jareth sat down, suddenly showing his weariness. He turned to his friend and smiled sadly. "Would you rather an execution? That is what the witch would have done when she was through with them. I saved those idiots lives."

The goblin paused and persisted. "But what kind of lives will they have now?"

The Goblin King growled softly under his breath. "The kind of lives traitors deserve. He was a friend Grimblin, and he betrayed me. I have nothing else to say on this matter." He waved the old goblin away.

Grimblin Fry moved to leave but stopped to say under his breath, "I fear he is only the first. We haven't much time." Then he walked slowly from the red room, leaning heavily on his branch.

The King sat for a moment in silence and rubbed his tired eyes. Then a sound reached his ears. The babe. He turned to the mirror and waved a hand to show the images.

The child was awake and laying on the shoulder of the girl. He watched as it gently tugged on her raven curls. It appeared to be silent, but Jareth knew the truth. It was calling to him with an untapped power that caused The King to smile despite his heartache.

Then his skin began to tingle. He peered deeper into the mirror and found two shockingly blue eyes staring back at him. Sarah couldn't see him. He was sure of it. But he felt her stare just the same, and it caused his flesh to warm. Sitting back, he waved the image away and sighed. He doubtlessly needed more sleep.

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello readers! I would like to thank you for your continued support, especially Whack-a-beetle,MyraValhallah, and Lylabeth. I really appreciate your reviews! They are such a great help. As always thank you all for reading, reviewing, following and / or favoriting! –S.


	4. Chapter 3: Cozy, isn't it?

Chapter 3 : Cozy, isn't it?

Toby's health was improving. His fever was completely gone and his sinuses had ceased their endless drainage. His happy gurgle filled the tiny room and Sarah smiled as she held him close, singing a pitchy version of an old nursery rhyme.

"Slime and snails,

Or puppy dog tails,

Thunder or lightning?"

She smiled down at him as Toby swung his arms and giggled.

"Then baby said..." Sarah paused before blowing on his tiny hand. Her laugh rang out gayly as he bounced in her grasp.

Sarah stood from her seat by his crib and carried him into her cozy kitchen. He would be hungry soon. At the thought of food, her stomach moaned. Sarah was famished, as she had skipped her last two meals. She moved to the toasty fire, placed a kettle on to heat, then set about arranging her meal on a tray.

Toby laid his downy head down on her shoulder and pulled at the tiny curls at the base of her neck with curious fingers. Sarah felt her heart swell. "All right now, little monster."

Sarah produced a small bowl of milk and porridge. She moved to a comfortable chair by the fire and sat Toby on her lap. He devoured each spoonful with gusto and she had to dodge his greedy hands as they attempted to clamp down on the metal spoon. "Well, at least your appetite has returned!"

"He _is_ a growing boy." A deeply masculine voice sounded by the kitchen door.

Sarah looked up sharply and pulled the child close to her chest, almost dropping the porridge that wobbled on her knee. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the stranger. Her lungs momentarily stopped working. She moved the bowl to the side table and stood to address the tall man that stood audaciously in her kitchen doorway.

"Sir, I didn't hear you knock," She took a step forward, "and I'm positive _you_ did not hear me invite you inside."

The man looked surprised by her words but a small smile formed at the side of his mouth. He moved back to the entry and stepped out on the brick stairs. Then he raised an elegant white hand and knocked on the open door.

Sarah watched from the opposite side of the room with her head slightly tilted. The stranger was perplexingly beautiful, with a towering figure and a regal air. His features were stunning, from his divinely arched brows to his sharp cheekbones and squared jaw. His rich lips parted sensuously over stark white teeth. Sarah frowned, puzzled by his perfection.

The clothes he wore were fine and unlike any fashion Sarah had ever seen before. The fabric was odd, she noted. She almost wanted to touch its bizarrely foreign texture. Sarah felt a hot blush spread across her cheeks. She took a deep breath, tightened her lips into a determined pucker, and walked to the door.

Her expression seemed to amuse the man, for his purple eyes twinkled and he appeared to be fighting back a grin.

Taking the door into her hand, Sarah positioned herself in front of the gentleman.

"May I help you?" She asked, sternly.

"I do hope so, girl." The strange man drawled, not at all moved by her tone. "I'm here for the child."

His violet eyes bore into hers and suddenly Sarah's head began to spin. She broke eye contact and hazily focused on the long blonde hair that laid upon his broad shoulders. It was almost silver, though he seemed quite young, and it hung loosely in soft waves. Sarah blinked at him and for a moment considered allowing him to enter her home. Then, just as abruptly as it came upon her, the dizzying spell lifted and Sarah shook her head. She placed a hand to her forehead and vowed to eat soon.

"Interesting." The stranger said in a surprised voice and moved a little closer.

Sarah stepped back and began to close the door.

"Sarah." He called to her softly and placed a hand on the wooden frame. "You have done well with him, but it is time for the child to move on."

Sarah paused at his words "Move on?" she asked, confused before sudden understanding dawned on her. _The adoption officer._ "You are here for the child. I was going to contact you tomorrow morning, sir. Do, please, come inside, um…" She paused and waited for him to supply a name.

"You may call me Jareth, Sarah." He bowed his head slightly and a lovely strand of silver fell into his lavender eyes. The man strode into the little room and surveyed it with open curiosity.

Sarah wondered at the unusual name. She closed the door behind him and continued speaking in a hurried manner. "Well, yes, um as I was saying, I meant to contact you to discuss future arrangements for Toby." She glanced down at the babe in her arms. His innocent eyes seemed as interested in the mysterious Jareth as hers had been.

"Oh yes?" The striking man asked with the rise of his brow. He turned his head to the sudden whistle of the kettle.

"Excuse me," Sarah spoke quickly as she reached for a thick mitt and grabbed the hot kettle from the fire. Jareth watched her every move. Holding Toby away on her hip, Sarah began to pour the steaming water into her teapot and placed two delicate porcelain teacups onto the waiting tray. She was grateful she had already arranged a small plate of grapes, cheese, and crispy bread.

"I'm sure there will be documents to look over for the adoption." Sarah continued speaking, not stopping in her actions. "I have already spoken with Mistress Colburn and have convinced, er um," she paused and corrected, missing the man's hidden grin at her choice of words, " _obtained her approval_ , for him to stay with me until the papers are signed and filed."

Jareth's gaze followed her movements intently, not missing a single stir or lift of her hand. When she moved to carry the tray, he stepped forward.

"Allow me." The man reached over and lightly indicated with a nod of his head for her to lead the way. Sarah smiled in thanks and walked to the humble parlor on the right. His curiosity was again peaked, it seemed to Sarah, and he glanced about the room as he placed the tray on a short table by the stiff cream-colored furnishings.

"Thank you, sir. Please, won't you sit down?" She motioned to a chair and walked to place Toby in his wooden bed by the window. The child protested at being separated from the two with a soft whimper that threatened to turn into a fit of tears.

Jareth strode confidently to the crib and simply stared down at the child with his strangely foreign eyes until Toby went silent. Then, to Sarah's utter amazement, the baby laid down and promptly went to sleep.

"My, you certainly have a way with children." Sarah acknowledged slowly. She smiled as she waved her hand back to the tea. "I'm sure that comes in handy in your line of work."

The man laughed lightly and nodded, "You have no idea."

They both sat down and Sarah began to pour him a hot cup. "Sir." She said as she handed it to him and reached for her own.

"Do you live alone, Sarah?" Jareth asked offhandedly.

Sarah was surprised by the forthright question but kept her composure. "Of course. Your offices have not informed you of my particular situation?"

The man took a sip of his tea and leaned back in his hard chair, placing a foot on his knee. "I will hear it from you."

Warmth spread across Sarah's cheeks at his words but she lifted her chin and nodded. "As you wish. I do, in fact, live alone. With my mother deceased and my father remarried, I find that independence is the best option for me."

"An option few women have." Jareth prompted mildly. His tone did not indicate judgment so Sarah answered plainly.

"Yes. My situation is unique. My uncle permitted me to live with him during the last years of his life. He was a physician, a truly brilliant and kind man. He allowed me to apprentice with him in his work." Sarah paused and lightly motioned to the food on the tray. Her guest simply raised a hand and shook his head. She ignored the food as well, though not without some regret, and continued.

"Through him, I learned of medicine and healing. He tended to the poor, you see. Children were his particular specialty. When he passed…" Sarah paused swallowing the emotion that rose up in her throat.

She placed her drink on the tray again, not looking at her guest. When she lifted her head, her eyes were clear and her expression under control once again.

"When my uncle passed his patients turned to me. I am not a doctor, of course, but I can help with minor injuries and illnesses. I study constantly to learn new techniques and remedies. But surely you know all this. I have been collaborating with your offices for over a year now." Sarah stopped speaking, unsure of why she was going into such detail.

"And do your patients pay for these services?" The man asked, ignoring her words and boldly looking again at the room in which they sat. It was small, with stacks of books lining the shelves and walls. The space was clean but it was also cramped and unfashionable. Sarah felt herself bristle at his appraisal.

"I do not require much. My uncle left me this house and a small sum. I do not believe in servants."

The man turned and stared at her, his face lighting up beautifully as he laughed. "You do not believe in servants?"

Sarah frowned at his mocking tone and shook her head, refusing to feel foolish. "Well, I know they exist but I would not wish to employ one." She answered, her words mildly sarcastic. "I am but one person, and quite capable of taking care of myself," She paused and then added, "and the baby."

The man named Jareth turned his eyes on her. The smile faded from his lips. Sarah felt the weight of his stare on her entire body. When he spoke it was in a firm tone that caused the air to leave her lungs.

"Forget about the baby."

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth or the characters.**

Hello readers! Well, here they are, meeting at last. What are your thoughts on this pair? Any sparks? Maybe those are still to come. Let me know in a review or PM and you never know what silver king might show up at your door.

I would like to thank those of you who have written, especially my new reviewers, ISolemnlySwearToManageMischief and SarahlouiseDodge. I truly appreciate you taking the time to share your thoughts. It really helped to make me drag myself out of bed and write! Also, thank you for all the private messages, everyone. I love hearing from you!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/ or favoriting. Good luck in your own endeavors! – S.


	5. Chapter 4: Life can be easy

Chapter 4 : Life can be easy, It's not always swell

It was interesting, reading the girl.

When he appeared in the small house, the Goblin King had been prepared to simply take the child and disappear, as he had with multiple others. His thoughts were on the boy. He had a power that would attract magic seekers like a beacon, and Jareth traveled across the realms to claim it before someone else did.

But then he met the girl and his curiosity was peaked. She was irked to see him in her home. Her perplexing blue eyes grew as large as saucers, and her temper flared. It was amusing.

The tiny woman seemed prepared to send him away. Jareth used his magic to charm her into letting him inside. Then, to his surprise, she rebuffed him with apparently no effort on her part. When he tried again, this time using her name as a conduit, his magic appeared to have no effect at all. It was all terribly interesting.

Then, to his astonishment, her eyes filled with recognition. She had mistaken him for another. Sarah imagined he was human. He allowed her to continue to think so.

Jareth was invited inside her home and watched her move about it with intrigue. The King had never truly witnessed the banal aspects of mortal life and he found them strangely fascinating.

The girl was efficient in her movements. Every motion seemed to have a purpose. As he watched her, he was struck by how easily she juggled the child and her actions. Sarah twisted her hips to keep the little person at a safe distance from the hot liquid in her hands.

When she moved to carry the tray as well, Jareth felt compelled to offer assistance. He followed her through the miniature dwellings and was surprised when it simply stopped with the next room. It was far smaller than it looked in the mirror.

He gazed on as she placed the babe in his crib, and heard it call out to his King.

Jareth stood and went to the child, speaking words that only they could hear. When at last he convinced him that they would be returning together, the babe laid his head back and slept. Sarah watched him with interest but The King easily turned her attention away from himself.

Instead, he focused on her. He had to admit, he was curious. It was not outside his knowledge that her situation was unique. It was unusual for an unmarried woman to live alone in the human realm. She was attractive, by mortal standards, and did not appear to be desolate or damaged. He wondered at her lack of a mate. She was unlike other humans, and there was more to her than what she shared. There was depth beneath the surface.

As Jareth listened to her words, he let his powers flow softly across the room. The invisible alchemy circled the girl, twirling around her body like a blanket of smoke.

The King wanted her secrets.

It wasn't as easy as it was with most. He felt a resistance within her, one that she didn't even dream was there.

At first, there was only a mist; pale purple and dense with ambiguity. Then the King could make out an image or so, in flashes. There was a book with an obscure title, a crown of roses, a tiny stuffed creature lying on a pillow. Then Jareth reached deeper and a scene played out before his eyes.

Sarah, no older than five in human years, and a tiny thing even then, stood alone in a white room. The wind from an open window bellowed out her long cotton gown. Her eyes were fixed on something. The Goblin King followed her stare to a closed curtain surrounding a bed. He watched as the child, clutching the stuffed creature from before, edged closer to the object of her attention.

"Mama." She mouthed, though the sound was lost to time.

She stepped even nearer and reached out a trembling hand to pull back the curtain. Beyond, just barely lit by the burning firelight, lay the remains of a deceased human. He frowned as he saw the girl run forward. She flung her little body at the bed and wept against her mother's dead form.

Suddenly, she was no longer alone. A male was there grasping her arms and pulling her away. The King watched as the man tore the stuffed creature from her hands and threw it into a fire by the wall before carrying the fighting child from the room.

Then the image was gone and replaced by another.

She was in an enclosure made of glass. Heat steamed the windows as the girl knelt on her knees before a thin plated tank. She appeared to be older than before by three or four years. Her expression was enraptured. He tilted his head slightly to gaze at what she was witnessing.

Snakes. Different colorful snakes. They surrounded her in the hothouse, caged in glass boxes, and slithering on top of one another. The girl was _speaking_ to them. The Goblin King grinned at her behavior. She moved to another box and spoke to it as well. Her words were lost, but her countenance was that of delighted discovery.

Again she was interrupted. This time it was by two boys who appeared to be her own age. The King watched with mild frustration as the boys pushed little Sarah and pulled at her hair. They taunted her together, bullying the child to the point where most would have dissolved into tears. But Sarah stood straight as an arrow and crossed her arms, ignoring the boys in front of her.

This only proved to anger the young men more and they gazed at each other with wicked intent in their eyes.

Turning away from the girl, they peered around the room and smiled. With stumbling speed they knocked over two of the glass cages and dashed for the door. Sarah ran forward, sidestepping the broken glass, but it was too late. They had barred the way and locked her within with the free and venomous reptiles. Sarah banged on the door but to no avail. She spun around and stared in horror as the snakes slithered closer. Then she opened her mouth and screamed.

The purple haze returned and surrounded the King. The images were lost. He was surprised that he had been knocked back so soon. Her mind was stronger than most, it seemed. Jareth adjusted quickly to the change and focused in on the girl.

Not a moment had passed during his explorations and he picked up the conversation with ease. The King found that he enjoyed the sound of her voice. It was firm but feminine. As she spoke she shared some of her life with him and how she came to be a healer. This was not exactly news to him, as he had watched her work for many nights, but there _was_ something that struck him.

"And do your patients pay for these services?" He asked, looking again at the humble home. In his world, healers were treated with respect. His dearest friend, Grimblin Fry, was one himself. Though he chose a humble life, he was not without esteem. To see her living in such a hovel was surprising to The King.

"I do not require much. My uncle left me this house and a small sum." She paused and unconsciously lifted her chin, "I do not believe in servants."

The King laughed outright at this. She said the words as if she expected to have to defend herself. "You do not believe in servants?" He ribbed, curious if she would rise to the occasion.

She did not disappoint. Sarah went on to say that she could take care of herself, before belatedly adding in the child.

At the mention of the babe Jareth's mind instantly sobered. He had let himself forget his real purpose for the trip through the glass. The babe with the power. It was imperative that he acquire him instantly. Circidella might already be on her way to claim him.

The game was at its end.

He turned to the girl and looked her full in the eyes. It was the gaze that had sunk goblins to their knees. Then he spoke in the ancient voice that had trembled mountains to the dirt.

"Forget about the baby."

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth.**

Hello readers! What are your thoughts on The King's POV? Let me know and I promise to save you from scary, scary snakes!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! - S.


	6. Chapter 5: Who are you?

Chapter 5: Who are you?

Four words, that was all it took, and the blindfold was removed from Sarah's eyes. The tall man with the brutally angled face was not from the adoption offices. Looking at him again, mouth agape, Sarah could not believe she ever thought it possible.

 _Who had she invited into her home?_

Jareth had not moved. He didn't stand or threaten, and yet she felt a deep foreboding inside. Every nerve within her seemed to awaken at once. She forced her insides to remain calm as she slowly placed her delicate cup on the tray.

"I beg your pardon?" Sarah asked. She willed her back to straightened and her voice to remain steady.

The man did not smile. Sarah was relieved. There was a viciousness beneath his lovely lips and straight white teeth. She had seen it moments before as his expression changed from teasing to that of an avenging angel. Sarah clasped her hands on her lap and waited.

He took his time responding. He seemed abnormally interested in her face. He stared at it with a focus that bordered on rude. The stony purple eyes wandered over her lips, cheeks and her small pert nose before finally coming to rest on her eyes. The intensity of his regard was ill-mannered and crushing. Sarah blinked and leaned back slightly. Violet eyes captured blue and willed her to focus on him.

She felt herself falling into his gaze, tumbling into his thoughts.

Her chest pulled forward and she braced her hands on her knees for support. Her body was her own, but her mind was locked with his.

She became dizzy with the speed of _his_ thoughts. Words popped into her brain, words she didn't understand. _Alchenmians, Nascency, Circidella_. That last one was laced with a disdain so thick, Sarah felt a bad taste film her mouth.

Then images began to twirl in her brain. A room, dark and cold, with a large bed in the center. Another with red flames dancing on the walls. Sarah felt herself pushed to the edge of the space, almost flying over it. Then she was looking out onto an impossibly enormous maze. She felt her stomach flip at the boundless sight before her. It was impossible that such a thing should exist.

Her attention turned then to a figure on a throne. It was the man himself, leaning casually across the ivory dais. For all respects Jareth seemed at ease, even slightly bored, but Sarah recognized the lie in the image. He was completely alert. Even his reclining body was taut with readiness and strength. As Sarah drew nearer she felt another emotion radiate off of the man in waves. It took a moment for her to place it, then once she had, she felt she must be wrong.

 _Emptiness._

Sarah tilted her head for a closer look, only to have his eyes turn to her. In the dream, Jareth's eyes were no longer expressionless. On the contrary, they were filled with surprise and wonder. The thick lashes widened and the pointed brows spiked upward, before pulling into a bewildered frown. He swung his feet to the floor and moved to stand. Then Sarah felt herself falling back and away. In the blink of an eye, she was once again herself, sitting on a chair in her prim living room.

Her breathing was rushed as she moved a hand to her heaving breasts. Her mind began to speed quickly, trying to rationalize what just happened. _Was it a fainting spell?_ She knew the answer was no, but the alternative was impossible.

"Impossible." She heard and lifted her head up sharply. The tall man stood before her and stared at Sarah. She turned away, terrified.

"Sarah." He called. His voice was a seductive lullaby. "Look at me, Sarah."

Sarah swallowed hard and shook her head. "I think not, sir." She answered in a small, stubborn voice.

To her surprise, she heard a soft chuckle from the man. Then there was the ruffling of fabric. It was his cloak possibly, but Sarah did not look. The thud of boots scraped the floor. Before she knew it, the man was kneeling before her and turning her face to his. She gasped and pulled back from his grasp. When her eyes met his, she saw humor and curiosity in their depths.

"Forgive me for touching you, but I must have your attention." He smiled slightly and leaned in to look more deeply at her.

Sarah could feel his breath on her face, and the smell of lavender and spice filled her lungs. She blinked quickly. Her skin heated and raised. She shook her head and put a hand on his shoulder to push him back.

"Who are you?" She asked slowly.

"I've already told you." The man answered quietly, indulgently, unmoved by her nudge.

Sarah frowned and pulled her hand back. Her voice came out in a suspicious whisper. " _What_ are you? A witch?"

The man called Jareth laughed roughly and stood again. He crossed his arms over his massive chest and seemed to be debating something in his mind. Then, in an instant, he appeared to come to a conclusion and gave Sarah a dazzling smile.

Sarah witnessed it all and was completely confused. It only got worse with his next words.

"Sarah, an excellent question. I had hoped we could simply resolve this without any difficulty but it appears you are abnormally guarded against my magic."

"Your _magic_..." Sarah interrupted only to be ignored.

"What am I?" He repeated in his slow drawl. "I am The King."

Sarah was silent. The whole room seemed to freeze as the man waited for her to respond. "A king of what, sir?"

Jareth smirked. "Of everything. Not _a_ king, _The_ King."

Sarah slowly began to rise from her seat. "Is that so?" She asked politely.

"It is."

Sarah stood absolutely still and folded her hands before her. "And where is your kingdom, if I might ask?"

Jareth's brows pulled together and he shook his head with a smile. "Everywhere. I will explain if you wish."

Sarah nodded and remained quiet. The King continued to speak in his hypnotic voice.

"Time is not what you believe it to be, Sarah. It does not pass. It simply changes. For one, it is ever moving, for another, it is as still as stone. There was once a vast and ancient war. It lasted for millennia, I am told. To me, it was," The King paused and smiled with a small shake of his head, "shorter."

The King's eyes glazed over as he recalled the distant memory. "It was man versus goblin, witch versus elf. In the end, only the goblins and witches remained. Then it was I, alone on a battlefield, King of the realms."

"And which are you? Not man." Sarah asked quietly.

The King laughed low and turned his brilliant eyes to the girl. "No. Not man. Not witch. Not elf. Not goblin. I am something else entirely, Sarah. But _you_ may call me Jareth."

His eyes bore into hers. It took all her strength to not look away or shiver under his gaze. Her voice was lost, though she had many questions. He waited for a moment and then the side of his lips twitched and he turned his sparkling eyes away.

After taking a few seconds to collect herself, Sarah wet her lips and asked firmly. "And why are you here?"

The King took a step closer. Sarah felt her heart stop as he turned his long body to the sleeping baby in his bed. "I am here for the child, Sarah."

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello readers! Ever wonder how you would respond if a gorgeous man showed up and told you he's the king of the world? No? Ahh well, it's just me then. How do you think Sarah handled the crazy situation? Let me know, don't make me use my hypnotic gaze!

I want to thank those of you awesome readers who have written me both by PM and reviews including but not limited to, MyraValhallah, SarahlouisDodge, Honoria Granger, Devilish or Kittenish, Whack-a-beetle, and my new reviewer HachimanKitsune. You guys are amazing! I wish you all good luck for the New Year!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! -S.


	7. Chapter 6: Defy Me

Chapter 6: Defy Me

Jareth did not see her slow advance. When she darted forward to the child, he was almost surprised. Almost. Humans moved too slowly to truly surprise him. With a flick of a hand the child was in his arms and out of her reach. _The tricky little girl_. He should have noticed when she listened and accepted his story so well.

But he had been distracted.

He was not prepared for the young healer to invade his mind. It had never happened before. The King was intrigued by what it could possibly indicate. He had allowed his curiosity to lead him. He attempted to search her mind again. This time, she denied him completely. He needed to reach her. By sharing his own story, he hoped to make her vulnerable to his whims. It had not worked out that way.

Now, she stood before him. Her breath was coming out in tiny pants and her small fists pressed to her sides.

"You are _not_ taking that child."

Her face was fierce, like a small animal protecting her young. The King smiled despite himself. _What a strange creature,_ he thought, not for the first time. She was something entirely new. The way she had tripped around in his mind, the images she drew forth.. _._

His thoughts raced. Planned. In the amount of time it took for her to decide whether she should reach for the babe again, or go and find a mortal to help her, he was prepared.

"Sarah, you are no match for me." He began, staring down at her with a patronizing smile.

As he hoped she would, Sarah pulled herself up and crossed her arms.

"You do not know me, sir."

" _Sire_ , I think." He corrected gently, exasperating her even more.

"You are not _my_ king, _Jareth_." The girl's eyes blazed with fire and Jareth pulled in his cheeks to stop himself from grinning.

"As you wish, Sa-rah _,_ " he drew out her name, letting it roll around on his tongue. In the end, it sounded as sensuous as an endearment. "I find I prefer my name on your lips."

He smirked as her blush rose and spread across her pale skin. He was enjoying himself.

He took a step closer to her and closed his cloak around the child. When he spread his arms again the babe was gone.

Sarah gave a startled gasp and rushed forward.

"Where is he? What have you done to him?" Her words were choked with fear and anger.

Sarah's hands grasped at his cloak and pulled it open. Jareth felt the warm air on the skin of his exposed collarbone. Her fingers clung to the fabric on his shoulders and he felt her nails through his shirt. It was familiar, intimate. Jareth had only known the girl for a moment but he knew that Sarah would be mortified of her actions if she were not in such turmoil. Carefully, he removed her fingers and grasped her wrists.

"Forget him, Sarah." He demanded.

The girl shook her head. She attempted to pull away but his hands held her easily. He slid his fingers into hers.

"I've brought you a gift." He whispered low and pulled his hands away. Her arms remained in the air but her palms drooped with the weight of his present. Sarah stared down at it.

"What is this?" She asked suspiciously, turning it this way and that.

"A crystal. Nothing more. But if you look closely…"

Sarah frowned and stared into the heavy crystal ball in her hands. At first, she saw nothing. Then her eyes widened as the crystal began to glow and hum. The King raised a brow and lifted the corner of his lips as she began to witness his magic.

He prowled around her slowly, whispering in her ears.

"There. Do you see her? Is she not as lovely as you remember?" He purred. "I can give her to you, Sarah. A mother. _Your_ mother. A gift."

Sarah held her breath again. He was not surprised. The King was beginning to pick up on her little human habits.

"It's not real." She insisted.

Jareth smiled slightly, "I shall make it real." At the shake of her head, he paused in front of her and put his palms around hers. He felt the heat spread from his fingers onto her cold flesh. The image within the glass cleared even more and a soft voice filled the small room.

" _Sarah, darling!"_

Sarah sucked in air.

" _I'm waiting, Sarah. I'm waiting."_

Her hands began to shake under his. "She is waiting, Sarah. I will give her to you. I will make _time_ reverse."

The image in the orb began to twirl and change. Her mother holding her, pressing a stuffed bear into her hands, rocking her softly in her arms.

"Go to her, Sarah. Play with your toys and costumes. Have the life you've always dreamed of. You want that, don't you?" His voice was melodic and seductive. He felt her waver beneath his fingertips. "Then forget about the baby."

For a moment he tasted triumph. Her breathing stopped completely. She shivered and squeezed her eyes closed tightly. Then she opened them and he was face to face with her fury.

"No." She gasped and he felt her hands close on the orb. Then, with all her strength, she threw it to the ground. "How dare you!"

The crystal shattered with a loud crash and light exploded in the room. The ground began to tremble as the shards scattered to every corner. A black cloud rose from the broken glass and twirled in the small space. Darkness spread its fingers and the sunlight shrank away until nothing was visible. The shadowed room went silent, eliminating all sound, except for the pounding of the girl's heart.

He could see her clearly in the dark and she was frightened. But she was also furious. She blinked and held out her arms, reaching for anything she recognized.

The King let out a small breath and a pale purple light came forth from his mouth, illuminating the lower part of his face with an otherworldly glow.

"Don't defy me, Sarah." He warned. The light escaped his parted lips and flowed around the girl. It wrapped around her slowly, gently, and she pulled away. He laughed lightly and blew across the room.

The violet glow began to spread. Gradually the room came into view, but it was not the same as before.

It was glass, an orb of glass.

Sarah turned around herself in panic. It was all glass and so warm. She raised a hand to her throat as her eyes adjusted. Then she screamed.

Draped around her neck where the purple light had been, was a long, sleek reptile. It slithered across her skin and caressed her flesh with its flickering tongue.

With a frantic swing, she flung it from herself and jumped away, only to trip backward. She landed with a thud on the mirrored ground, her long skirt wrapping around her ankles. As she moved to stand her fingers were brushed. She pulled back and gazed at the floor with wide, shocked eyes.

Jareth watched as the girl scooted back and jumped up. She was surrounded. The snakes crawled across her feet and legs, covering the slick glass. There was nothing to climb on for escape. She turned her eyes to him and for a mad second, he thought she might fling herself into his arms.

Instead, she stopped moving and stood iron straight. She looked him in the eyes and surprised him with her words.

"You have no power over me."

Her voice was soft and there was a tremor in it, but she held his eyes firmly.

The King smiled and tilted his head.

"Would you like to make a bet?"

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! Apparently, it's a bad idea to say no to a King. Do you think you could have refused our silver-haired immortal? Let me know, or share any thoughts about this story and you might win a glowing crystal orb. (Snakes not included!)

I would like to thank my reviewers, StaticMissi, LovelyAmberLight, AWeeLassie,Lylabeth,SarahlouiseDodge, Whack-abeetle, and MyraValhallah. You guys are amazing. Have I told you lately that I love you? I want to thank my silent readers as well. I am so curious about you! I wish you would drop me a line, either in PM or by a review. Who are you, mysterious creatures? :) I hope everyone has enjoyed this chapter. Please disregard mistakes. I'll be editing it more this week.

As always thank you all for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! -S.


	8. Chapter 7:A Pity

Chapter 7: A Pity

Sarah didn't respond. It took all her restraint to not climb up into his arms.

The snakes were upon her. They slithered across her feet and up her legs, slowly. She could feel every scale, every lash from a curious tongue. Her body went rigid and her teeth bit down ruthlessly on her bottom lip. The man was speaking, his words a gentle hum in the back of her mind. She closed her eyes and focused on his voice. The accent was odd. _How had she not noticed that before?_ The way his voice dipped when he said her name, almost as if he was tasting it, caused her skin to react. She focused on that. Not the reptiles.

 _Snakes. How did he know?_ Her fear of them had been established in her youth after a hateful trick by some schoolmates left her hospitalized. She couldn't stand them ever since. If fact, during her early years, her phobia had become so bad she suffered from continuous nightmares. _No, she wouldn't think about that. His voice…_

But he had ceased speaking. Sarah's heart skipped a beat and she let go of the air she was holding. She opened her eyes slowly.

"Good. I was afraid you might faint."

There was mocking in his voice and Sarah turned her gaze his way, not looking at the ground. Her breath was coming out in little pants now and she let go of her lip.

"No. I am well." She insisted stubbornly.

The man smiled at her words and leaned his head to the side. "Of course."

Jareth stood away from her and rocked on his heels. His fingers moved to his mouth and softly ran over his top lip. He surveyed her with curious eyes.

"Sarah, are you afraid?"

 _No, s_ he thought, lying to herself. But it was no use. She admitted out loud, "I do not like reptiles."

The King nodded solemnly. "Say the word, and they will be gone. I am your servant, Sarah."

 _The word. Let him have Toby._ The thought was repulsive. She would never give a child to such a creature. Sarah shook her head feebly, afraid to move.

He turned away from her and glided across the glass floor to pick up a smooth yellow and black snake. It wrapped itself around his arm and hugged him tightly. Jareth let his fingers run down its body and Sarah cringed inwardly. His eyes left the snake and returned to her with a strange intensity.

"I cannot bring the child back here, Sarah. He is under my protection within my castle." He took his hand away from the animal and waved it at the crystal wall. It gave way suddenly to an open scene.

Sarah's eyes widened in shock as she looked out onto a field of orange. It stretched as far as she could see to her left and right. The air seemed to sizzle as though all the moisture was pulled from the sky. Then she saw it on the horizon, the maze from her stolen images. It was even larger than she thought at first sight. Its intricate turns were stunning. Sarah squinted for a closer look, all but forgetting the hated snakes at her feet.

There, in the center of the Labyrinth, was an enormous castle. She gasped at its grandeur. She had seen castles before, of course. The nobility were always erecting new testaments to their wealth, but this was another thing entirely.

The stones glistened in the searing light like ebony gems; sparkling black diamonds against a rose-colored sky. It reached into the clouds with towers that spiraled in swirling perfection. The structure was beautiful; dark and elegant, like the man in front of her. It reflected his own strength and foreboding mystery. Sarah had gazed upon it before.

"I know that place." She whispered, turning her bewildered gaze to him. "I have seen within…"

His response was only to raise a brow. He bent and replaced the snake. His steps were deliberate, then. He moved towards her slowly, never taking his eyes from her.

"My home, in Goblin City." He paused in front of her rigid body and smirked. "Do you like it?"

Sarah swallowed and shook her head. "I find it an irritating obstacle."

To her surprise, The King let out a hearty laugh and stepped even closer. The sound of hissing snakes increased and caused her heart to leap.

"An obstacle? Sarah, do not think to challenge my Labyrinth." He ordered and smiled at her in that patronizing way again. It caused her blood to boil.

"Your Labyrinth will not stop me any more than your _snakes_." She responded, defiantly. Sarah felt her chest tighten. Gathering her courage, she stepped forward through the jumble of slithering bodies. She forced herself to ignore the feelings of panic that threatened to paralyze her. Instead, she focused on her feet, lifting them over the snakes and stopping close to The King. "It is not so far."

He seemed to examine her words. Then he shook his head and whispered, almost to himself, "What a pity." He turned away and she could no longer see his face. "It is further than you think and time is short."

The King lifted his hands and spread them out as if reaching for something. The room began to tremble and the glass started to shake and make a high pitched squealing sound. Sarah raised her hands to her ears and turned her face away. A sudden gust of wind blew back her curls, knocking them loose from her prim knot and whipping them against her cheeks. Then the glass shattered and the room went still. Sarah pulled her hair from her eyes and stared at the sight around her.

 _The snakes had disappeared_ , that was her first thought. Then she turned and found herself in the enormous orange field. It was silent, as though all life had left the plains. It was heartbreakingly beautiful and almost sad in its stoicism. Sarah bit her lip and turned to find the man who had brought her to the strange new place.

He was watching her. His expression was guarded and she frowned as she tried to read it.

"You have thirteen hours to reach my castle." He spoke gently, with no trace of the smile she had become used to. "If you don't complete the Labyrinth by that time, you forfeit all rights to the child. Do we have a deal?"

 _It is all moving so quickly,_ Sarah thought as she looked out again at the immense maze beyond the fields. It seemed to wave before her eyes, almost like a living thing. She felt panic begin to rise within her throat. _It was preposterous_. _The fire was still burning in her kitchen. The Glenn's were expecting her visit. She couldn't possibly be in another world with a magical king who had kidnaped her soon-to-be son._ And yet she knew it was so.

Sarah was practical enough to adapt to the current situation, but her spirit quaked at the mission before her. _Do we have a deal?_ He asked. Sarah crossed her arms and shook her head. The King raised his brows in surprise and a look crossed his face that seemed oddly close to relief.

"We do not yet have a 'deal'. I will need a few things before I agree." She answered slowly, using the same voice she had tried with Mistress Colburn.

The King drew his arms across his front and locked his folded fingers, tapping them on his lips. "Such as?"

Sarah delicately cleared her throat and stood a tiny bit straighter. "My medical bag. I do not travel without it. And something suitable to wear. This gown would hardly do."

Sarah felt the man's eyes travel down her well-worn dress and she shifted under his stare. Then Jareth nodded in agreement. Her leather bag was suddenly in her hands. Sarah flinched and set it down before pulling it open. Nothing had changed within its contents and she nodded at The King. There was a moment of silence between them.

Sarah looked away and straightened. A soft wind began to brush her face. The scent of lavender and spice filled her nose. Then the gentle gust grew until it wrapped around her body with its fragrant gales. Her gown blew back with a whoosh and tucked against her legs. The fabric slide over her skin, pressing to her form and molding itself into her shape. Sarah gasped when she looked down at her body. Gone was her long and cumbersome gown, in its place was a terribly immodest pair of fitted trousers and a flowing white shirt. On her feet were a pair of high boots, like those worn by buccaneers.

Sarah's hands flew down and pulled her shirt lower over her bottom and legs as best she could, before turning her accusing eyes to the offending man.

"I wouldn't do that, my lady. You would not wish to expose yourself." He grinned at her and looked down pointedly at the top button of her blouse. Sarah actually squeaked and pulled her top up again to cover her chest.

"Sir…" Sarah breathed.

"Sire."

" _Jareth_. This is completely inappropriate." She gasped, her furious eyes burning into his.

He simply smiled and turned away. "This is a lesson. Always say exactly what you mean, and mean exactly what you say. The Labyrinth is unforgiving, Sarah, and does not allow for mistakes."

"Jareth!" Sarah called to him. He stopped and turned to her.

"Sarah?"

"This-these clothes, I…"

Jareth laughed lightly and shook his head. "Are you not more comfortable? Less encumbered? Forget your modesty, Sarah. The rules of man do not apply here. I am King, and I approve of you." He looked away suddenly and pointed to the Labyrinth. "I will leave you there."

He moved forward swiftly, far faster than she could perceive. Before she knew it, she was in his arms and they were gone. Sarah gasped and flung her arms around his neck. She pressed her face against his shoulder as the world began to spin.

Jareth's body shook with laughter. The King looked down at her with an indulgent grin and pushed the black curls from her buried face. It took a moment for her to realize that they had stopped moving only seconds after they began. He laughed again as she peeked up at him and he began to pry her fingers from his neck.

"Breathe, Sarah." He instructed in velvet baritone.

Sarah obeyed by drawing in a shaky breath. Then she lifted her chin. "Put me down, Jareth."

He complied silently. The man placed her feet on the hard, rocky ground and stepped away. With hands careful to not touch her, he handed her the leather bag and turned to the walls in front of them.

"Thirteen hours." Jareth repeated and then without another glance in her direction, he was gone.

 **A.N. I do not own the Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you so much for all the reviews and messages. As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting. - S.


	9. Chapter 8: I Was Frightening

Chapter 8: I was Frightening

Correspondence from Captain Didymus _-_

Troops to the West of the Flailknock Plains: _10,000_

 _Weapons of note: 12,000 swords, forks, and axes_

 _Rations: Abundant_

Troops to the East of the Gravenous Barch: _7,800_

 _Weapons of note: 8,400 flails, and picks_

 _Rations: Controlled and Distributed_

Troops to the Northern Sky: _20,000+_

 _Weapons of note: 36,000 Short bows, spears, arrows, and dart_

 _Rations: Renewable_

Troops of the Underground: _Restricted Classification 12_

 _Weapons of note: Restricted Classification FOX_

 _Rations: Restricted Classification U_

 _Note to follow:_

 _Sire,_

 _This shall be brief, as you and I are both aware of the multitude of labors that must be performed by myself daily. The troops are ill, very ill indeed! I, myself, am not extremely well. The air is damp here in Restricted Classification 12 as I'm sure you know, my most concerned and benevolent highness. The cough which has plagued me these forty years is only worsened by my residency. The troops feel the humidity almost as profoundly as I. Strong soldiers, every one of them, and yet how they wheeze and wobble. Fever has broken out in camps 4c and 7b. Almost single-handedly I have quarantined and tended to them. A Captains work is ever increasing and I am but a servant to my rank and King._

 _Captain Gallivant Didymus, first son, and Master of the Alms of Boist_

The King frowned over the crumpled piece of parchment and flung it into the fire.

"Is there no other word?" He barked and glared at his messenger. The poor goblin shook his head and searched through his hip bag.

His eyes widened as if seeing something for the first time. Plucking it from inside, he shakily handed Jareth a small brown package. The scent caught The King's attention immediately.

"Dismissed," Jareth ordered, not taking his eyes away from the bundle.

It was surprisingly heavy, for such a small parcel. The cloying fragrance wafted up into his nose and caused The King to bristle instinctively. It smelled like death and witchcraft.

 _Circidella._

Jareth paused and reflected. The last gift he received from the Lady Witch had been filled with trickery. And bones, if he recalled correctly. The King sneered and shook the box carefully, listening for the tell-tale rattling from within. It did not make a sound. He couldn't decide if that was worse. Placing it on the arm of his throne, he sat beside it with a huff. Then, waving his hand, he summoned Grimblin Fry.

The goblin was surprised at his sudden appearance in the throne room. His back to The King, he coughed and grasped his staff as though choking. When he turned around, Jareth could see he was in the middle of chewing.

"Did I catch you at the table, old friend?"

The old goblin swallowed and ran a sleeve across his mouth before speaking. "You know you did."

"Yes. Well, assist me with this simple situation and we will have you back to your meal in no time." He smiled and tossed the box to the goblin.

Grimblin caught it with his free hand clumsily. His eyes tightened and his fingers started to tremble slightly.

"Witchcraft." He whispered.

"Obviously."

"Circidella?"

"Without a doubt. Now that you are here, shall we open it?"

The King stood and snatched it from the visibly shaken goblin. Grimblin Fry instantly moved his hands to the bones around his neck and kissed them. The King saw his gesture and smiled wickedly before tapping on the brown lid.

It flung open automatically and an overwhelming stench filled the large room. Rolling green smoke poured from the exposed box. The goblin covered his mouth and nose. Jareth held the package up and flattened a palm over the mist causing it to smother and disperse.

"She smells as lovely as I remember." The King smirked snidely.

"There was a time you thought her as fragrant as the spring." Grimblin reminded him, waving a hand before his burning nose. At his words Jareth's head snapped up in anger, then almost immediately it moved on to mirth.

"I am waiting for your memory to fade, Grimblin Fry. It is one of the only advantages of having friends as old as man's earth." He grinned.

The goblin shook his branch and smiled back. "Not quite that old, sire. And not as old as some, surely."

The King laughed again and turned back to the slightly steaming box in his hands. He peered inside and then growled deeply. With measured steps, he placed it on the corner of the fire and turned away. As he strode to the open balcony, the goblin moved to look within the package.

"Ruination! It can't be so!" He gasped and stepped back. "The Captain?"

The King did not respond. He leaned heavily on the black banister.

"How? His location was secret, classified." Grimblin wondered, clearly upset.

"Spies. I received a note just today from Didymus. His troops were weakened. Circidella must have known somehow." He ran a long hand through his gold and silver hair and pushed away from the balcony in frustration.

Grimblin moved closer to his king. He began to pace and think out loud. "The Labyrinth wouldn't allow her inside. The troops must have been drawn out. You said, spies?"

"Yes…" the King confirmed. "Small spies, possibly magical and not easily seen. They must have peered through the cracks."

Then they both came to the same answer at once. "Fairies!"

"Those wretched bugs!" Grimblin Fry all but spat. "They must have learned the location and reported back to the witch."

Jareth nodded. "Once knowing their position, the troops would be only too easy to summon from the Underground. With their numbers depleted, Circidella could defeat them easily."

The goblin's brows creased and he looked back to the box. "His brother will want his remains."

The King did not acknowledge his words. Instead, he spoke as if he didn't hear him. "We need the exterminator, Hoggle. Where did I send that creature, again?"

Grimblin turned his face to his King. "The bogs. Sire, take care. Remember his crimes. Remember what he is."

"An exterminator." The King answered darkly. "We need the spies dealt with before we lose more of our forces."

"He is unstable at best. A liar, a killer. If you release him from the bogs, can you control him?" The goblin asked, shaking his staff with worry.

"O' Grimbly, I ain't all that bad!" A gruff and weathered voice barked from behind him.

Grimblin Fry stared accusingly at Jareth. His King had yet to speak, but Grimblin knew only his magic could have brought Hoggle so quickly. His eyes turned to the dwarf standing boldly before his King. His very presence seemed to add a darkness to the enormous room. Grimblin wiped a sleeved arm across his nose and frowned at the filthy creature.

"I'm act'lly quite pleasant, if'n you don't go smellin' me. Those bogs…they leave somthin' lingerin', don't them?" The dwarf lifted his grotesquely muscular arm, took a big whiff, then fell into peels of lusty laughter.

The King moved forward slowly with his fingers tapping his lips. "Hoggle. You are just the disgusting murderer I wanted to see. I have need of you." He drawled out deeply and stopped before the dwarf, piercing him with steely purple eyes.

* * *

The filthy creature was pointed down his path and left the castle with the single-minded determination of the mentally deranged. Hoggle's body odor mixed with the witch's gift made for an unpleasant aroma in his throne room and The King suddenly felt the urgent desire to escape the claustrophobic space. He moved to leave but was stopped by the voice of Grimblin Fry.

"Sire. Someone must contact the Captain's brother. He will want to gather the remains for the Floating."

The King stopped and turned in anger. His rage had been boiling beneath the surface ever since the box was opened and now he let it loose on the one person he knew could take it.

"Will he? Well, there they are. A head in a box! I will make sure he gets it Grimblin." He bellowed, causing the red walls to shake and large clouds to form outside.

"Bu-but surely there is a body." The old goblin stuttered, bracing himself with his staff.

"Surely? _Are_ you so sure? The brother should be happy he has anything to send to Navella. It is more than my other soldiers will have. Circidella doesn't _leave_ bodies. She uses them! Make no mistake, soon we will be facing our own comrades in battle." Blue and purple lightning flashed outside of the balcony and winds blew wildly.

Grimblin watched the anger on his King's face mix with guilt and sadness. A heavy rain began to pelt the castle, slamming into the open room with frantic speed.

"Jareth," He started, moving closer and placing a hand on The King. "This wasn't you. The Captain-"

"Is dead. That is all. And my soldiers, some as new as babes, are dead as well. Why, you ask? Because their illness weakened them? No, that is too convenient. Because of my absence? In seeking Tobias, I _did_ endanger my own subjects. I knew she wanted him. I should have guessed she would retaliate."

The King looked wild. His long blonde hair blew madly, beating against his haunted face as if he were punishing himself. His eyes, though, were what worried the goblin. They glowed from within with a white light behind the stunning violet. Grimblin felt a chill go up his spine as he watched them.

"Yet that is too simple an answer, as well." The King continued. "No. My failure comes from allowing her to live at all. It was my weakness. So you see it all comes back full circle." He shouted. "Weakness." _Lightning._ "Neglect." _Winds_. "Weakness." _Thunder._

"No," Grimblin shouted. "That is too convenient as well."

The King turned his brilliant eyes to his friend. The old goblin continued hurriedly.

"You forget greed, fear, and corruption. Are you the creator of these things? No. Even you are not that powerful."

The King scoffed slightly, but the rain began to slow.

"There is more here than we know. A greater game is being played." A thought occurred to Grimblin Fry. Later he wouldn't be able to tell why he would even ask but the words came out, nonetheless. "Did you acquire the child?"

Jareth paused. His magnificent eyes expressing the brilliance of his mind. Grimblin watched as he solved mysteries that would always remain hidden to his own goblin brain. Then a terrifying smile crept across his face and the storm ended.

"Yes, I did." He answered deeply. Then The King turned to his friend and placed his own hand on his shoulder. The warmth that flowed forth was soothing. Jareth was using his magic to calm the frightened goblin. "Forgive me. I do not deserve you, old friend."

Jareth turned away and moved to the box that still sat on by the fire. The desecrated head of his Captain stared back up at him with a horrified expression. With a gentle palm, he closed the lid and carefully rubbed the surface. It lengthened and enlarged. The brown parcel began to transform into silver and glass. It stretched delicately into a magnificent casket fit for a king. Before the eyes of the shocked goblin, the head within grew shoulders, arms, a torso, legs. It was whole once again. Grimblin felt tears prick at his eyes as he gazed up at his King.

"It is magic," Jareth explained, "not his real form. Perhaps it will give comfort to his brother and our troops. I will go now and speak to Lord Didymus." He stepped away from the casket and moved to the door. Then, suddenly, in a voice close to a whisper "May he find peace in Navella."

Without another word, he was gone.

Grimblin Fry stared after his friend and King with a saddened smile. Then he hobbled forward and placed a hand on the beautiful glass and silver casket.

"May we all." He whispered.

 **A.N. I do not claim rights to the Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, a little dark, I know. What are your thoughts on the poor Captain? Let me know and you can win a stormy night in the rain with Jareth!

I want to thank my reviewers, SarahlouiseDodge, MyraValhallah, Ebony-Dove, and Whack-the-beetle. You guys are amazing. I would also like to welcome all new followers! Hi! I'm so glad you have chosen to spend time with this story. Please feel free to PM me or review. This is an amazing community, and I'm so excited to meet you!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting. -S. *MyraValhallah you were spot on about Sarah's outfit! :)


	10. Chapter 9: Losing Your Head Over A Girl

Chapter 9: Losing Your Head Over A Girl

There was no entrance into the labyrinth. Sarah ran her hands up and down the stone and could feel no variation on its surface. The sleek, glistening rock quivered under her fingertips. An irrational thought entered her mind…perhaps…it did not like being touched. She pulled her fingers back and whispered under her breath, "Pardon me," all the while shaking her head at her own folly.

Sarah ran a hand through her unbound hair and looked down the length of the wall. It was unending and impossibly tall. It had ceased trembling, but still pulsed with the slow imitation of breath. Sarah sighed as she examined it from a respectful distance.

"Ya'll never get in." A voice behind her grumbled. Sarah turned at the gruff tone in surprise.

The man, though not really so, that stood before her simply crossed his arms and grinned.

He was small and stout, coming only to her shoulder. His dark and filthy clothes fell across wide shoulders and hung in heaps about his short frame. The features of his weathered face were exaggerated. Wider than necessary eyes bulged over an extended hooked nose. Plump lips pulled tight over shockingly white teeth as he smiled up at her in a slightly predatory manner.

Sarah stepped back from his unsettling expression and pulled her bag to her chest. "Excuse me?" She asked, rather guarded.

"You." The creature pointed at her. "Ya'll never get in there. Thing's enchanted, girl. Never gonna open up for some overgrown _nothing_.'" He growled and turned away.

Sarah stood silent for a moment watching him wobble off. She placed a hand on her hip and called after the dwarf. "What do you know about this labyrinth?"

The creature simply ignored her words and continued on. With deliberate rudeness he began to hum, swinging his arms at his sides. The man crouched down heavily behind a rock and began to sift through some belongings he had hidden there. From her vantage point above him, she could clearly make out multiple metal objects being pulled from a bulky bag. The instruments resembled garden tools. Sarah recognized a rake-like metallic fork, a hose, and a spray can.

"Are you a gardener?" She inquired.

The creature lifted his head with a huff and grumbled. "I'm Hoggle."

Sarah stepped closer and held her hand out to the creature, palm facing down. "Hello, Mr. Hoggle. I am very pleased to meet you. I am Sarah."

The creature was staring at Sarah with wide eyes. He seemed to be waiting for his name to register with her. Sarah saw anger spread across his face and took a step back.

"Hoggle. Hoggle!" He shouted. When Sarah merely shook her head in confusion, he stood and stared at her. "Idiot, imbecile, eejit girl! Not knowin' me!" His face became heated and red. His small form began to shake and he clutched his hands into fists. He moved toward her as if to charge then paused abruptly.

The creature Hoggle took a long sniff of the air with his gnarled nose. He snorted loudly and spat at the ground. "Ahhhh…uggg…human. Stink o' bogg! Filthy beggars. Here for more riches? More wishes? Never enough, ain't it?"

His rant was stopped short by Sarah's sharp intake of breath and the words that followed. "Wishes? My only wish is to find the entrance to this maze." Sarah gave the dwarf a confused look and shook her head. She turned away from the mad creature and began to walk along the wall.

Hoggle returned to his bag with a dismissive wave of his hand and a mumble. The sounds of his work clanked and clonked behind Sarah as she focused on finding the entrance. The problem was as impossible as before and was only made worse by the knowledge that she was failing in front of someone who would take enjoyment from it.

The noise of the metal ended and Sarah felt the creature approach. She refused to look his way as he moved closer, dragging his tools behind him. She stepped to the side, careful to keep her eyes in front of her.

Then she saw it.

At first, it was the slightest of twinkles, a glimmer of light reflecting off the labyrinth walls. Then it became more focused. Sarah blinked twice and tiptoed a little closer. She inhaled in delight and pressed her free hand to her chest. It was beautiful. _She_ was beautiful. The tiny woman floating in the air on wings as delicate as spider webs. The light seemed to dance around her small form and shimmer on her soft pink flesh. Sarah smiled, bewitched by her loveliness. Her fingers reached forward of their own accord and wiggled a small hello.

"How sweet!" She sighed as the little woman flew forward and smiled back.

So enchanted was she, that Sarah did not see Hoggle approach nor did she hear the threatening clang of the metal spray can in his hands. Shock hit her with a hateful punch as the winged woman, just when she was almost close enough to touch, began to twitch and writhe in pain. Sarah gasped in horror as flames spread across the fairy's wings and engulfed her body.

Following the path of the blaze, her gaze landed on the horrid Hoggle. He stood firmly at her side holding his tool. It was no ordinary spray can. Instead of water or pesticides, it sprayed flames out of its nozzle.

"Hoggle, no!" Sarah cried, rushing forward to help the poor fairy. Hoggle grunted in distaste but ceased his fiery attack. The tiny fairy landed on the ground in a puff of smoke.

Sarah fell beside her and scooped up her injured form. Her skin was scolding and blistered the palms of Sarah's hands.

"Don't go touchin' that, human. It'll kill ya." Hoggle warned, though he did not appear overly worried. Sarah looked up from the sizzling being in her hands and shot a cold, tearful look his way.

"Kill me? She was lovely. How could you?" Her voice was tight and choked with emotion as she pulled the fairy to her chest. The burning in her hand seemed to worsen slightly.

"They're lovely all right. Right until they kill ya!" He spoke over his shoulder as he bent to pick up a hose from the ground. "Better to hand it here, while ya still can."

Sarah shook her head and pulled her hand closer to her chest. She dropped her medical bag to the ground and knelt to rummage through it for the salve she used to treat burns in the children. She would use it on the fairy woman, then on her own hand which seemed to be injured as well.

It was then her chest began to heat. The warmth spread from her hand and expanded across her chest almost instantly. The blistering pain was almost blinding. Sarah gasped as she looked down at the woman in her palm. The fairy's small hand reached to touch the top of Sarah's breast through the folds of her white buttoned shirt. Sarah struggled to understand what was happening as the sizzling, torrid ache expanded over her breast and up her throat. When her eyes finally focused for a second on the woman, Sarah physically jolted in fear.

The small body was no longer singed or scorched. It was once again a perfect pink glimmer. The lovely wings fluttered as though testing themselves and the small face looked up at Sarah. It was the expression on the fairy's face that made Sarah respond.

Through the sparkling light and the distorting pain of flames blazing across her flesh, Sarah saw the fairy _smile_. It was not a smile of friendship or gratitude, but one altogether different. It spread too wide, across teeth that were too sharp. It did not reach the eyes. In the little woman's face was the horrifying expression of triumph. Then the pointy teeth moved forward and bit down on Sarah's tender flesh, just below the collarbone, drawing tiny droplets of blood.

Sarah gasped and opened her hand. The fairy instantly flew up and away from the frightened woman.

Sarah looked away, not watching her ascent. Her body felt encased in flames. Her thoughts fled. She gazed down at the exposed rounding of her breast but saw no blisters or redness. The pain was within, under the skin. It was where no salve could reach.

She could hear Hoggle next to her speaking but could not make out the words. They were a fog. Everything was. The world seemed to burn with her, melting away into nothing but pain.

When the water hit her body she screamed. It was less from pain than from the extreme difference in temperature. One moment her body was on fire, the next it was drowning in freezing cold depths. It sloshed over her flesh and she felt the tender place under her skin sizzle and hiss. Was it her blood? She couldn't think properly.

Hoggle's voice began to filter in now that the whooshing of the blaze was passing.

"Told ya'. Humans! Stupid, senseless scum." He was moving closer to her and Sarah felt a slight kick to her now soaked boot. "Told ya', dinna I? Fairy magic will kill ya."

Sarah turned to cough slightly, relieving her lungs of excess water. Her body was returning to normal. She looked up at Hoggle from the ground and frowned. She didn't recall falling.

"Thank you." She choked out softly.

"Don't want no thanks. Ya cost me a fairy! Gonna take me…"

Sarah frowned as he paused his words and looked over his shoulder to the distance. His wide eyes squinted slightly and he took a heavy breath. "Stink o' boggs, ya done it now!" He glared at Sarah and reached a hand down to her.

Sarah lifted her hand in confusion and stared in the direction the little man had a moment before. She saw nothing. "What have I done?"

"They're comin' now."

"What?" She asked again, though she already felt she knew the answer.

"Those fairies, human. A big ol' swarm of em." He grasped her hand and pulled her up into a seated position. He stared at her with cold eyes and shook his head. "Don't have enough anti-venom to protect myself now."

Sarah bit her lip and looked down at her soaked and clinging blouse. "I…I thought it was water."

Hoggle laughed harshly and dropped her hand. "Water won't do nothin' against fairy poison, human. Bout as useless as you."

Sarah fixed her sights on the place behind him and squinted out to see the danger he claimed was coming.

There was nothing there.

But they quickly came into view. Sarah's heart began to thud and she scrambled achingly to her feet. Her beautifully made boots squeaked under her as she locked her legs.

The rapid sweeping of wings created a hissing sound in the air. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of shimmering lights in the empty sky.

And they were all heading her way.

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! So Hoggle meets Sarah. Isn't he charming? What are your thoughts on this handsome fella, or the swarm of oncoming fairies? Let me know, you filthy human beggers!

I would like to thank my awesome reviewers, One with the Wind, MyraVallhallah, LittleMissLizzibell (cute!) Whack-a-beetle, SarahlouiseDodge, Ivy Tearen, and all my delightful guest reviewers! There is a special place in writer's paradise for you!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! – S.


	11. Chapter 10: It Hurts Like Hell

Chapter 10: It Hurts like Hell

The sound was coming closer. There was no denying it. The frantic hiss had turned into a rapid and continuous squeal. There was no single direction in which it originated. It was all-encompassing. It was everywhere. _They_ were everywhere.

Sarah felt panic rise in her throat. It was too late to flee. Turning eyes downwards she reached for her bag and held it in front of herself like a small shield. She turned to the dwarf and yelled loudly over the noise, "Get behind me, Hoggle. If you run, they will surely chase you."

Hoggle, filthy, heartless devil he was, offered no resistance in hiding behind the young woman.

"Too right, human. Ya fight 'em off. Bigger'n me. Might as well put yer overgrown body to use!" He huffed, tucking his wide frame behind her.

Sarah looked down with a raised brow and sucked in her cheeks. "I'm beginning to rethink my offer, Hoggle." She warned tightly.

The dwarf gave her an almost apologetic look and shook his head, wisely keeping his mouth closed.

"Have you your spray can?" Sarah asked, hurriedly. The little lights were growing brighter as the swarm approached. It was almost beautiful, the way the warm, soft colors swayed in the wind. They were as lovely as they were lethal.

The dwarf's grizzled voice broke into her panicked thoughts.

"Yeah, I got it. Not that it'll do much good." He grumbled from behind his damp protector.

Before she could utter a response, Sarah saw the first glorious form come into view. The flesh of this new fairy was different than the one that had caused her so much pain. Its skin glowed a soft green instead of pink and though it was not close enough to be sure, Sarah felt almost certain that it was a male. The way it swayed with the breeze seemed much heavier. It did not glide, as her attacker had, but charged at full force.

Sarah gasped and clutched her bag tighter.

"Ready yourself, Hoggle." She warned and looked behind her.

"Ready ya own self." The dwarf glared up at her in disdain.

"Hoggle, I should have heeded your warning. I _am_ sorry." Sarah whispered with a voice filled with regret. Then she turned her gaze back to the advancing hoard. More were coming into focus. Fairies of all colors and sizes approached threateningly. Sarah reached down and grabbed Hoggle's rake from the ground and planted her feet into the red dirt.

The first to reach her was the green fairy.

The small creature shot forward like an arrow. It slashed at her skin, leaving a long shallow scrape along her cheekbone. Sarah pulled back, turning her face away and raising her bag to protect herself. Then it was as if they all attacked at once.

Stings from a thousand pricks shot at her body. Sarah twisted, instinctively guarding the smaller Hoggle against the brunt of the injuries. Her arm beat out wildly, swatting away the fairies with the metal rake. Once or twice she was sure she made contact. The end of the tool would rattle and make a sickening thud, and Sarah would know she hit one.

It was only a matter of seconds before she lost feeling in her arm. The rake shook in her grasp and fell to the ground uselessly. Sarah moaned and felt her limb drop lamely at her side. It did not burn, thankfully, but it also no longer had any feeling.

The attack was relentless. Sarah was completely surrounded. The creatures tore at her skin and bit into her, drawing slick trails of blood along her arms, chest, and cheeks. They yanked at her long, wild curls, ripping them out by the roots.

Sarah swung her bag out, hitting a few attackers with the thick leather.

Then the poison started to take effect. It was not a single injury that began to burn, but all of them at once. The venom was slower acting than before. Perhaps it was due to the anti-venom that still dripped down her skin, Sarah thought to herself, gradually going into shock. Through the blazing haze that was starting to blind her, Sarah reached down and felt for the little man. Her eyes drifted to him and her mouth opened to speak.

No words came out, just a hot gasp.

* * *

Hoggle looked up for a moment and paused to stare at the human before him. The weak overgrown thing was wilted and bloody. Her once white shirt was dyed red. Her skin was welted with long strips of raised burns. Not an inch of her was left untouched. Her body sagged as they continued to viciously rip at her skin. She was dying.

Hoggle grunted heavily and shrugged. _One less human_ , he thought sensibly.

Then he looked into her bright blue eyes. There were no tears in the swollen depths, only a look of crippling regret and guilt. She was dying, and she felt sorry for _him_. A shiver ran up the dwarf's spine and he knew he was going to hate himself for what he was about to do. With a growl and a jerk, he pulled the girl down and shoved her beneath him.

"Stay down!" He grumbled and raised his spray can to the swarm of fairies.

With the flick of his finger, he unlatched the side of his weapon, releasing the fuel into the tube and shooting it out in a carefully timed spray. At the same time, he expertly ignited the nozzle with a squeeze of the trigger. The air became engulfed with hot yellow and orange flames.

The squealing soon switched to screams and hisses. Colorful bodies blazed and shriveled, falling to the dirt in smoking balls. The fairies retreated slightly, just enough for Hoggle to look down at the human. She was still as a corpse. Hoggle frowned at the strange pang in his chest that appeared and just as soon disappeared. He kicked her lightly with the toe of his boot and grunted approvingly when she jerked away.

He returned his attention to the battle before him.

The swarm was returning. Hoggle pulled his trigger again and released another blast of fire at the bravest of the fleet. He smiled cruelly as they crumbled to their deaths.

"Filthy bugs. Like that?" He called, aiming the flames to a group approaching from the side. They seemed determined to get to the girl. _Always a punishment for kindness_ , he thought with a knowing frown.

Hoggle shook his weapon slightly, feeling for signs of it emptying. After a moment it gave a tell-tale rattle. The fuel was almost spent. He knew it wouldn't last long. He had planned on waiting until the girl died and the fairies exhausted themselves to use it and fight off the rest as he went for cover. That plan had not worked out. Hoggle shook himself in disgust _. One look into those big blue eyes and he was acting like an eejit human!_

The spray can rattled again and then refused to flame. Hoggle looked out around himself and saw that the fairies were regrouping. The ugly lights began to twinkle brighter as they joined up.

He turned away from the hateful hoard and searched for an escape. Beside him, there were just more fairies. Behind him, stood the unyielding wall of the labyrinth. He felt anger and desperation consume him. With a burst of fury, he turned and began to kick the thick trembling rocks.

"Open! Open! Stink-o-Boggs, I'll tear ya down rock by rock!" He slammed his dense body onto the rough stone, only to fall back heavily on the girl below him. Undeterred, he scrambled forward and charged it again.

The fairies had formed anew and went after the frantic dwarf with reinvigorated forces.

He was almost wild now, tearing at the stone with his nails while batting away the poisonous flying demons. Then, to his surprise, he felt a slender hand grasp his ankle. With crazed eyes, he looked down at the human girl that he had already come to think of as dead.

"St-stop." She whispered weakly, letting her hand drop. "It doesn't- doesn't like to be touched."

Hoggle's mouth dropped open and he paused his manic efforts just long enough to stare at the girl who had obviously lost her mind. He watched as she began to slide forward, pulling herself along on the flat of her stomach. Her slender form stretched out. The boot of her right leg dragged behind, burdened by the bag she had used for a shield.

For an instant, Hoggle simply watched her as the fairies proceeded to attack his body. She was almost to the wall. It was useless. He knew it. But there was something in just watching her fight. She didn't acknowledge the creatures as they stung or bit her. Her eyes never left the wall.

Then she was there and Hoggle almost smiled.

"Please." She whispered softly, so low he barely heard her. Then her forehead dropped to the dirt at the base of the labyrinth. To Hoggle, it almost looked like a bow.

The dwarf scoffed and turned away, smacking at the six or seven fairies that were fighting over the flesh of his ears.

"Ya want my ears? Ne'er washed 'em anyway!" He called out with a dark chuckle. His eyes were on the devil bugs. They were mapping out how many he could take before he died.

He didn't see the surface of the wall change. He didn't see it vibrate and wave in ways that defied the science of stone. He didn't see, but he felt it.

The filthy, faithless dwarf felt the ground shudder. He felt a massive gust of wind blow him from behind. He felt the red dirt beat against his face and small rocks crumble to his side.

"What tha-"He asked and turned to look back in wonder.

The labyrinth had opened.

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! Now we are getting somewhere! Share your thoughts and you could get a beautiful fairy. No? Ok...

Thank you SarahlouiseDodge, LovelyAmberLight, Whack-a-beetle, MyraValhallah, and LittleMissLizzibell for your lovely reviews and those of you who have contacted me through PM. It is so inspiring to hear from you!

As always thank you for reading, reviewing, following, and/or favoriting! –S.


	12. Chapter 11: What Choice Have You Got

Chapter 11: What Choice Have You Got

The discussion with Lord Didymus did not go well. Jareth sighed as he walked away from the crumbled and broken brother of his Captain. He had expected as much.

The young lordling was not prepared for bad news. His life had been gentle. War was an anecdote at a dinner party; death a far-off thing. _His brother had been made of sterner stuff_. Jareth shook his head as he walked. The death of the Captain hung heavy around his neck.

His mind returned to the small smoking head that lay in the glass casket in his throne room.

Jareth stood silently by the edge of the red field. His thoughts trailed back to the conversation with the new Master of the Marshlands.

* * *

The young lord was busy. His company was much sought after by the foolish elite.

As The King strode through the crowded hall, a hush fell upon the room. The music halted and all eyes turned to Jareth. Hurried ruffles of fabric followed as his subjects fell to their knees before his magnificent presence.

Jareth's disinterested gaze passed over the masses, searching for the face he sought. For a moment the King could not locate him. A frown creased his beautiful brow and worried murmurs rippled through the gathered group. Then, high on a balcony, he heard it, a single shrill giggle that the King knew instantly.

The Goblin King's eyes lifted and his frown deepened. Lord Lancel Didymus, only surviving son, and new Master of the Alms of Boist, was tripping down the steps of the ornately draped staircase with his head tucked under the skirt of a giggling, painted female.

The King's displeasure was palpable. The guests at the party soon began to fidget and whisper. The room had darkened noticeably. Someone coughed and another hushed him. The King simply watched.

Lord Lancel was oblivious. He stumbled once and caught himself with a tooth-grinding laugh that caused the King to tilt his silver head away. The lord did not see. With his face hidden and his arms grabbing for a better hold on his lady friend, Lancel simply continued to draw closer to his ruler with blind indifference.

It was the female that stopped. Her eyes lifted and her legs locked as she took in the overwhelming sight of The King. She stared into his violet gaze and her shocked orbs became as wide as saucers. When she dropped to her knees she took the unknowing lord with her.

"Hey, what are you doing? You almost took my neck off, girl!" The petulant youth asked as he fell forward, catching himself on the railing and removing himself from the girl's frock.

The lord was a sight to see. His pale white hair, so painstakingly dyed and powdered to look like The King's, was rumpled. His silky white shirtfront bore the signs of berry wine and his eyes were glazed from drink and folly. He lightly shoved the girl's shoulder with a sweaty palm and moved to snuggle next to her on the stair.

The King had seen enough.

A light rumble shook the room and caused the crystal chandelier to tremble delicately from the ceiling. Lord Lancel lifted confused eyes to the hanging glass above him, then he turned to the room below. The entire party and all its occupants were silent. He frowned as he noticed their eyes on him. Then he saw him, The Great King.

The young lord visibly jolted. The crowd below witnessed Lancel suck in a breath and attempt in vain to gather his dignity before his sovereign.

"Lord Didymus." The King spoke softly, but Lancel jumped just the same. His head shook wildly and he licked his berry-stained lips before answering.

"He is at his post." The lordling's voice sounded weak after the fullness of Jareth's.

The King shook his head sadly and turned his back. "Follow me, Lancel."

The crowd seemed to explode the moment The King was out of sight. Hands grasped the lordling and pulled him down the stairs and to the open doorway. Lancel fought back, instinctively knowing he wouldn't want to follow. His eyes drifted up to the girl he had spent most of the night with but she did not look back.

Then he was there. The King had brought him across the open balcony and into the empty gardens beyond. Lancel felt sick to his stomach.

Jareth's back was turned and he gave no sign of noticing as Lancel's stomach heaved.

"Lord Didymus, I have news that will distress you." The King spoke, not turning around.

Lancel frowned and shook his spinning head. "I- I'm Lancel, my King. Lord Didym-" he began only to stop speaking when his King met his stunned eyes. "He's dead?" He knew instantly.

"Yes." Jareth acknowledged firmly, never taking his eyes away from the new master's face.

Lord Lancel Didymus felt his knees give and watched as the ground came up to meet him. The dirt of the garden was rich and black. He let his palms fan out into the soil and gathered it into balls in his hands. He wasn't aware that he cried until the dirt turned to mud on his fingers.

"How?" Lancel moaned, shameless in his grief.

The King stepped forward and crossed his arms. "He was a soldier. He died the way a soldier should."

Lancel moaned again and grasped his silky middle.

"I am sorry for your pain, Lord Didymus." The King declared and Lancel flinched at the title. "I valued your brother both as a soldier and as a friend. Your loss is my kingdom's loss. He shall be mourned." He turned and moved away, allowing the youth an opportunity to grieve in private.

" _You're_ sorry?" Lancel asked. Acid dripped from his tone even as he gulped for air.

Jareth stopped then. He did not turn but he tilted his head to the side and waited for the lordling to continue.

Lord Didymus did not stop crying. The tears rolled down his scrunched face as he lifted himself from the ground. His knees and hands were covered in dirt but he lifted an accusing finger before the King.

"You did this." He screeched, the control he held over the volume of his voice all but gone. "You did. You tricked him. Your-your magic. Those evil eyes."

Jareth's expression was blank as he turned to face the black fingers. "You may continue Lancel, but I warn you to do so with caution. Words are like fire- once released they are difficult to control."

The lord paused and dropped his shaking fingers. His eyes fell as he seemed to heed the King's words of advice. Then-

"I'm not afraid of fire, _my King."_ He spat to the ground and ran a hand through his ivory hair.

Jareth lifted a long finger to his own top lip and nodded in silence as the youth continued.

"I warned Gallivant. When you called him to arms, I-I warned the idiot. He was ill. Weak..."

"Your brother was never weak, Lord Didymus." The King interjected quietly.

"Yes, he was! Weak and stupid! Leaving this, all of this..." Lancel lifted his arms and gestured to the massive castle. The Alms shined brightly behind him. It was a glowing example of wealth and prosperity. "For what? _Your_ war with your former _lover_!"

The King smiled darkly and breathed. "Careful."

"And he's dead." The lord continued, wildly. "Now, what shall happen to _me_? Me! The lords will rise up. The elves will call in my gold. The goblins..." Lancel shivered and looked over his shoulder in fear as if a horde of goblins might pop up out from behind the garden walls.

The King's eyes slanted into lavender slits. "I am well aware of your situation, Lord Didymus, though thankfully your brother was not."

"My-how?"

Jareth laughed low and shook his head as though Lancel had asked the most ridiculous question he had ever heard.

"There is little in my kingdom that eludes my eyes. I know you borrowed gold beyond repayment. I know you bargained with the elves against your brother's home and title. I know, Lancel, that it is not for Gallivant alone that you grieve."

The lord straightened and his tears ceased to flow. His face hardened as he spoke. "It was my home too. Mine. And his title, hah, I knew he would die. I told him. That title would come to me before the war ended. It's just..." the lord turned and wiped at his face, leaving a trail of dirt below one eye, "it was too, too soon."

"You have released a fire you cannot control." The King's menacing voice flowed from his perfect lips. "For Gallivant alone, I am going to give you a gift. You will join my ranks. You will earn your title the way your brother did. You will earn _his_ _name, his home_."

"What? My King, no! I am no soldier." Squeaked the young lord.

The King stepped back as Lancel fell to his feet to beg.

"I am aware," Jareth answered, "However, I offer you this honor. Do well and in return, I will settle your debts and protect the Alms from those who will seek to secure it in your absence. Do we have a deal?"

Lancel began to choke, coughing uncontrollably from his old place in the dirt. He nodded slightly. Then the ground shifted. It was no longer dark and rich, but red and dry. His eyes scrambled to adjust the change. When he looked up, he gasped. They were no longer at his home in the Alms of Boist but tucked away within the trembling walls of the labyrinth. He felt vomit rise again in his throat.

Lancel had never been so far within the walls. He had always chosen to stay close to his comfortable family home instead.

Instant heat caused sweat to spread across his brow.

A loud banging sound caused his head to turn and a large red field came into view. Rows upon rows of injured soldiers lay on beds of metal and straw. His nose twitched as the smell of rotting flesh wafted down to his position on the ground.

"Stand, Lord Didymus," The King ordered as he turned from his new recruit, "and follow me."

The youth did as he was told and trailed after The King on wobbly knees. Jareth did not look back but strode forward to his injured soldiers. Shocked gasps rang out. Shouts of joy filled the dry sky. Hands pushed forward to be grasped by their King.

Jareth smiled at his subjects and stopped at every bed.

"Can-can you help them?" The strangled voice of Lord Didymus whispered from behind.

Jareth stopped walking and turned to the lordling. "Some will heal now. Those untouched by the witch and her poison. Others…," The King shook his head, "I will put in a place of mental joy until they pass to Navella." He continued on but did not speak again.

The King grasped the hands of each soldier and stared into their eyes. Lancel watched as some of the wounded began to feel relief. Limbs grew back. Cuts healed. Soldiers began to rise on legs that had not existed before.

The lord also witnessed others close their eyes for the last time, slipping into a peaceful sleep.

"My King!" A boisterous voice called out, drawing both of their eyes.

The King smiled then and nodded to the goblin striding forward. He was a stranger to Lancel.

"Hello, Martiob. I was just inspecting your fine troops. They are a tribute to our cause, strong and brave." The King spoke loud enough for his soldiers to hear. A happy rumble went through the bunks.

"Stronger now, I see, your highness. Thank you." The rough goblin answered solemnly. The general lifted a gnarled hand to his sweat-dampened uniform front and bowed his head.

The King placed a palm on General Martiob's shoulder before turning to the red clearing. The goblin followed. "I have brought you someone, Martiob." He spoke firmly, nodding to Lancel.

The goblin's gaze drifted over the young lord's silken clothes and powdered hair before letting out a short laugh. "I have no need of a lady's maid, sire."

"Come now, there is always a need for a lady's maid." The King admonished with a sparkle in his violet eyes. "But this-"

Lancel felt his cheeks burn. The young lord ruffled his chest up. "I am the new Captain Didymus." He interrupted.

A great thunder sounded so close to his ears that Lancel covered his head.

The goblin general was looking at The King in confusion. Jareth continued as if he were never interrupted. "Is Lancel Didymus, your new _private_."

Lancel whimpered softly.

The general stepped closer to Lancel and put out a hand. "I've heard tell of your brother, private. A great loss. A real hero." He eyed Lord Didymus skeptically. "Not many like him."

"I trust you know what to do with him from here." Jareth smiled and clapped the goblin heavily on the shoulder.

Then he moved closer to Lancel and spoke just low enough for him to hear. "I am sorry for your loss. May you earn the love your brother had for you and regret the actions you took against him. This is your chance, Lord Didymus. For the friendship I had with Gallivant, this is your chance. Do not waste it."

The Great King turned suddenly, calling over his shoulder, "I will be in touch, General Martiob."

And then he was gone, without a look back.

* * *

He had decided to walk instead of using his magic. Jareth needed a moment to think and he always did that best within his labyrinth.

The King was troubled. He shook his head in anger. He was thankful he never shared the truth of his brother with Gallivant. _If he had known_ … he thought to himself. _No, it was a mercy he died in ignorance_.

Jareth clasped his hand and rubbed his lip, forcing himself to calm. It was almost impossible. He paused for a moment and leaned his head back on the labyrinth walls. He felt them tremble. Fast. Very fast.

At first, he thought it was his own inner turmoil causing them to shake but then he felt it. The wall shifted. Tiny rocks began to pebble at his feet. Red dust smoked the air. The labyrinth was _opening_.

Jareth sprung forward, ready to face whatever was powerful enough to open his labyrinth without his permission. Suddenly, there she was.

Sarah.

Her small body pulled forward on her hands and knees through the opening. Then, with a moan, she gave in to her human limitations.

She was in his arms in an instant. The pain of her body was audible as she gasped and went limp. Jareth eyes were everywhere at once. They searched her face, her hair, the exposed flesh of her throat. Every visible part of her was covered in injuries. Jareth swallowed as he lifted a swollen hand and inspected it.

Fairies.

He growled and swung his gaze up and out through the opening of the labyrinth. There were hundreds of them, and still more rising from the ground, recently injured. They paused when they saw The King.

Some escaped but not many. With a vicious clenching of his hand, they began to fall, writhing in pain. Grasping the girl to his chest, Jareth eviscerated them with vibrating white heat. He watched as the last one faded from existence before slamming the walls shut with a massive shake.

The King's attention turned back to the woman barely breathing in his arms. He pushed her heavy curls back from her face and frowned when she mumbled something too low for him to understand. Her body went very still. He ran two fingers along the base of her jaw and felt for a beat. Sarah's face twisted in a grimace and her heart skipped beneath his hand.

"Well, guess I'm outta job." Jareth heard a voice behind him grumble and he swung his head up to see who spoke.

Hoggle, the wretched dwarf he had sent to deal with the fairies, stood by, barely breathing himself.

The King lifted his hands from Sarah's throat. His fingers twitched as he pointed them at the dwarf.

"No, Hoggle, you are out of time."

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed this extra long chapter! Looks like Sarah is in good hands! Please share your thoughts on the dirty lordling or this recent turn of events before you are "out of time!"

I want to thank all of my new readers and followers! Welcome! Also, thank you to my excellent reviewers, LovelyAmberLight, tbmillerco, MyraValhallah, Whack-the beetle, and the brilliant Tek Sonay. For those of you who may not know, Tek is an amazing writer with work on this site that will take your breath away with its unique tone and exciting pace. If you are looking to stay in bed and not leave your house for a day, just read Howl's Love Advice. You will be positively useless for 24 hours! You can thank me later!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting!- S.


	13. Chapter 12: Hardships Unnumbered

Chapter 12: Hardships Unnumbered

The suffocating walls were tearing Sarah apart. Long arms with thick, rough fingers tugged at her clothes and skin, pulling at her flesh. They scratched at her and dug into her tender limbs. They were a hundred nails at once. They were merciless. Sarah screamed as the wounds grew deeper and deeper. The searing heat spread across her chest and back. The side of her head beat against a closed fist and bounced back, snapping her neck.

 _This is death_ , she thought darkly, almost hoping that it would come sooner rather than later. The pain embraced her like a dear friend. She was enveloped in it, wrapped in its burning torment. She moaned as a hand clasped her face, twisting it this way and that, as though inspecting her. Another palm trailed down her throat and collar, leaving stubs of broken glass in its wake.

"Sarah." She heard faintly. The sound twirled around her ears, echoing in the stinging spirals. Sarah flinched away and fell deeper into the grasping arms. Her body felt bare to the flaming touch, exposed. Her head pounded as greedy fingers dove into her jet-black curls.

"Breathe, Sarah." The voice called again, sounding oddly familiar. It was a command. Sarah gasped and felt her chest pump. The hundreds of hands that clenched at her breasts loosened and she felt her lungs quiver.

"Better, my lady." The voice applauded and Sarah heard a faint hint of relief. She wanted to see who it belonged to but red-hot digits splayed across her eyelids and kept them closed.

A cool arm gently slid beneath her and suddenly she was rising instead of falling. Her body pulled upwards but her tomb of hands yanked at her as she passed. Desperate fingers reached for her, grabbing handfuls of hair and clothes and peeling back layers of her moist flesh. Sarah screamed in pain.

There was a hypnotic humming in her ear. A deep rumble. Sarah twisted her head to the sound and focused on the dark melody. The fingers began to slip from her. Nails scratched at her but could no longer touch her. She was out of their reach. Sarah sighed as the last grimy grasp left her hair and she was released to the sky.

She was breathing, flying, following the deep song of her savior.

* * *

Sarah's eyelids began to flutter and Jareth let out a heavy breath. Her recovery was slower than he had ever experienced and he had begun to believe that she might not awaken. The fairies had attacked her with an unspeakable vengeance. Jareth shook his head and darkly wished he could eviscerate them again.

Her skin was beginning to change color. The painful red welts started to darken, crisp up, and scab over. Jareth frowned and moved his hand above her from the top of her head to the soles of her booted feet. He sent his magic out in smooth slivers of violet that misted over her flesh. Slowly, much too slowly, the brown and black scars began to fade and lighten.

Sarah's skin blushed first red, then pink. Jareth resisted the urge to touch her flesh in an effort to speed up the process, knowing she would not welcome such intimacy. Instead, he sent out his healing waves over her. The purple haze blew cold across her body and Sarah began to shiver.

When a glistening sheen spread across her skin, Jareth knew her fever was broken. Her long neck regained its ivory tint and her pale cheeks softened and flushed with a healthy glow.

For the first time since she collapsed in his arms, he noticed something other than her injuries. Jareth froze as his eyes drifted across her torn and tattered clothes. The fairies had left no inch of her unharmed and her attire showed the attack as her flesh no longer did. He growled deeply in anger and tore his eyes away from her fragile human body.

With a simple touch to her high black boot, Jareth redressed the tiny female and hid her private form. This time though, he picked a soft blue blouse with gold threading that began at the neck and trailed down to her navel. The color matched her eyes perfectly. He smiled slightly, anticipating her response to the design.

 _She should have awakened,_ he thought, not for the first time. The girl was abnormally immune to his powers. Perhaps she would not heal properly. The thought was enough to force him to stand and pace.

It was a new response for Jareth to care if a human lived or died. The lives of such creatures were so short, he had long ago decided that such worries were futile. It was comparable to mourning the falling of a leaf. Useless and unnecessary. And yet…

And yet, there was Sarah. Her body lay on his bed, her cheeks rubbed against his pillow. Jareth paused at the thought and instantly transformed his blankets and linens to a soft satin. Better to accommodate her tender new flesh. She showed no sign of noticing the change.

 _What was wrong with him?_ He pondered as he swept a stray silver hair from his eyes irritably. He needed to focus. _The woman would heal, maybe slowly…but she would heal. She might need to stay in his bed for longer than a night…_ He straightened as he realized the thought did not repulse him.

Without realizing it he was moving closer to the girl. Soon he stood directly above her still and silent form. She looked like herself again, maybe even slightly more refreshed from his magic healing. With the wave of a hand, the purple haze disappeared and the girl lay illuminated only by candlelight.

 _Yes, she is beautiful,_ The King thought, _by human standards_. He raised a hand to his chin and traced the top of his lip as he watched her breath more and more deeply. The effects of the magic had worked, yet still, she slept.

"Sarah. It is time to wake up." He spoke, impatiently, unsure of why he suddenly felt the need to see her eyes open.

The King waited but she did not move. He almost growled in frustration as he shoved an angry palm in his hair.

One night. One night of rest and healing. Then she must return to the mortal world, away from the child, away from his labyrinth, and away from himself.

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers! Ahh, a night at Jareth's! Yes, please! Let me in on all your sleepy little thoughts and Jareth might come to tuck you in!

I want to thank Annibale, Whack-the-beetle, MyraValhallah, and tbmillerco for your lovely and helpful reviews!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! –S.


	14. Chapter 13: Within You

Chapter 13: Within You

The candlelight twirled along her skin as though in a dance. The rays flickered across Sarah's newly mended flesh and along her long ebony lashes. Jareth's purple magic twisted among the streams of light and mingled with the yellow glow. From his seat at the foot of the bed, he demanded that she awaken. His thoughts gave a heavy nudge to her subconscious.

His eyes never left her face, not when the candle began to ebb, nor when the door to his chambers slowly creaked open.

"Jareth?" A voice from behind him spoke in the aged tone he knew so well.

"Grimblin. You received my summons?" He asked in a low drawl.

"You were not subtle, majesty." The goblin replied, moving into the room and leaning heavily on his stick. "The human, Sarah?" He asked, nodding to the sleeping woman on his King's bed.

Jareth acknowledged his words with a slight bow of his head. Then he lifted a slender hand, maneuvering the violet stream into soft currents around her face.

"The human is bizarrely guarded against my magic. "

Grimblin nodded and stepped closer to Jareth. His brow creased as he leaned forward and examined the unconscious female. She appeared entirely healed. Not only did she no longer show the scars of her recent attack, but her skin had lost any and all imperfections she might have had. Not a freckle remained.

The Goblin cleared his throat and lifted his eyes to his King. "I don't think you need the help of a healer, Your Highness."

The King straightened. He stood and moved away from the girl to stand by the long silver mirror on his wall. "No?"

"No. You have done well enough on your own. The girl has mended physically." The goblin assured his sovereign.

"Yes. That is not what troubles me," Jareth spoke, running a hand through his sterling hair.

Grimblin nodded. His stare intensified as he bent over the woman's silent form. The room was quiet and cool despite the enormous fire that blazed along the wall. Grimblin watched as the glimmering lavender light speckled along Sarah's brow and down her hair. His gaze tightened.

"You cannot reach her mind?" The goblin asked, solemnly. He felt the answer as well as heard it, as the room grew even colder.

"I cannot."

"Ah. Well, let me see what I can do." Grimblin breathed. He reached for the bones around his neck.

The rattling of the ancient artifacts disturbed the silence of the sick bed. Jareth moved closer but did not crowd the old goblin as he worked. He watched as Grimblin raised the ties around his neck to his eye level and put them to his lids. The healer's mouth began to move in silent prayer. Then the goblin took another step to the bed and carefully touched the eyes of the girl.

Sarah instantly began to convulse. Her small body violently rocked against the length of Jareth's bed and her hands clenched down on the satin sheets.

"Grimblin!" Jareth jerked, as he placed a hand on his most trusted friend's shoulder to stop him. The touch sent a shock down his arm and The King tilted his head against the sudden jolt.

Then he saw her. The woman was standing within his labyrinth. Her face showed a bewildered expression. As though feeling his gaze, she turned and looked at him. Her eyes were as blue as the crystal sea.

"I am not dead." She stated, slowly lifting a perfect hand and staring at it in wonder.

Jareth did not move closer. He watched her movements and shook his head. His brows pulled together when Sarah sucked in a breath and turned her fathomless gaze to him.

"And Hoggle?" The woman asked.

Jareth paused a moment before speaking. He crossed his arms and began to walk to her.

"The criminal?"

The King was steadily advancing. He saw Sarah's body shiver as he drew closer. She moved her hands to her arms, grasping the blue cloth in her palms. Her eyes focused on the blouse as she grazed it. "This is pretty." She spoke absently, running her fingers down the soft fabric.

"Sarah." The King spoke firmly. "Do you know Hoggle?"

The girl looked up at the now close King and smiled. "He-he saved me, I think." She paused and looked around herself. "Are we inside the labyrinth?"

Jareth nodded. He did not explain any further. The woman spun in a circle in the large, rocky space.

 _For an image in her mind_ , The King thought, _it is surprisingly accurate_.

The high red walls glistened in the glittering starlight. Sarah moved further along the path and stared up at the sky. Her eyes moved along the distance of the never-ending passage.

When she stopped suddenly and laughed, Jareth followed the line of her gaze. To his surprise they both found themselves staring at colossal carvings of his own immaculate face.

One after another lined the mountainous walls and archways. His features were carved into the stone. Jareth smiled slightly as his own eyes looked back at him, over and over again.

Sarah's voice drew his attention.

"Created in your image, I see." She spoke.

There was a lightness in her voice Jareth had never heard before. It was almost as though she were intoxicated. Sarah smiled up at The King and tilted her head to the side as though looking for similarities between the stone statues and his own immaculate face.

Jareth closed the distance between them. His smile turned deliciously wicked as he answered.

"I believe we are in _your_ dreams, my lady."

Sarah's breath caught slightly as she looked up at the massive depictions of The King. A fresh pink blush began to spread across her cheeks. Then, she raised her hand to her mouth to cover a giggle.

 _Sleeping Sarah seemed more prone to laughter,_ Jareth noted with a raised brow.

With a knowing smirk, Jareth turned and strode to a nearby representation. The amused King leaned back on his heels as he examined Sarah's mental monument to his face. "A good likeness. The artist has given this work plenty of thought."

Sarah crossed her arms, shook her head, and pouted. Her eyes were large and innocent. "No, she hasn't."

She turned away from the teasing King as he laughed outright. She reached for a nearby stone face.

"This feels real." Sarah declared as she sleepily traced the curve of the statue's upper lip with her fingertips.

Jareth felt his mouth tingle.

Then she lifted her sapphire gaze to the smiling monarch. "Are _you_ real?"

"I am." The King answered, his smile slowly fading. "You are sleeping."

"Sleeping," Sarah repeated. "But you are not part of my dream?"

"I am not."

Sarah stood in silence. Her long black hair blew back from her face in soft curls. The starlight bathed her in an otherworldly glow so her beauty was strangely alien.

The King watched her and weighed his next words. He knew that her life would depend on what he said. He spoke softly, almost tenderly.

"Sarah, it is time for you to return home."

The woman pulled her soft bottom lip between her teeth and looked up at the sky again. "Has it been thirteen hours?"

Jareth curved his hand, lifting the red dirt at her feet. The particles twirled on the wind and stopped to spiral in The King's palm.

"No. But time is different in my kingdom. It moves by my design. I can make it speed if I choose. I can make it slow if I choose." He opened his hand and the dust drifted down between his fingers, piece by piece, like sand in an hourglass.

"And stop, and reverse too, I suppose," Sarah muttered low, under her breath.

Jareth lifted his amethyst eyes to hers and shook his head. "Not in my realm, my lady. The balance is too delicate. I do not move the stars here."

Sarah seemed to examine him. After a moment her eyes lit.

"Then, I have all the time in the world." The girl smiled at The King. "I will gladly go home," she paused, "with Toby."

"The child stays, Sarah. This is my labyrinth, my world."

Sarah blinked at his words. Her impossibly plump lips parted and she turned away from Jareth. Her hands fell to her sides. The King believed that triumph was close at hand.

"But this is _my_ dream." The human answered. When she turned back to The King her face was alight with defiance.

The ground began to shake and sway. One of the many stone faces of The King broke and crumbled at her feet. Mighty winds began to blow, twisting her blue blouse. She took a step closer to The King. His eyes flashed at her movements but his body remained unmoved.

Sarah took a deep breath before she continued. "We had a bet, sir."

"Sire," Jareth responded automatically. "You almost died, Sarah."

The girl stopped just close enough to Jareth that he felt her breath on his chest. His body heated instantly. Sarah shook her head.

"No, we had a bet. But you could change time all along." The girl seemed to be figuring things out as she spoke and her voice came out in a breathy whisper. Jareth watched as her eyes began to focus. They lost their sleepy look and she turned a steady gaze up to his face."So time doesn't matter, does it?"

The walls of the labyrinth seemed to shake. Jareth frowned as he looked up at the swaying stars. _She shouldn't be able to do that._ Then Sarah spoke again and all of his attention was on the tiny human.

"I won't leave him, Jareth. If you imprison me, I will escape. If you send me home, I will find my way back. The only way to stop me from finding Toby will be to kill me now, in my sleep."

For a moment neither of them spoke, then Jareth put his hands together at the base of his chest and nodded. He saw a flash of fear fill Sarah's eyes before she guarded them with a heavy veil of lashes.

Light left his body slowly as he released just a taste of his monstrous power. His purple eyes blazed. His controlled exterior slipped and his body burned with a white intensity. Sarah held her breath.

The King knew he no longer looked human at all. He stared at the girl. Her magnificent eyes reflected his own radiance and she trembled in his presence. Sarah placed a flat palm in front of her eyes and turned her face from his heat.

Jareth watched her and his concentration intensified.

When The King touched her the contact was electric. His fingers were light. They barely rested on her temple for a moment but he heard Sarah's sharp intake of breath. He felt her sway slightly as his ivory skin grazed the soft black curls on her brow. It was an instant, an insignificant second that would barely count as a moment in a life such as The King's. And yet...

His body darkened and dimmed. Jareth was once again contained in what might pass as a human form. He moved his hand from Sarah's face and rested it on the spot above his chest where a human's heart would be. Then he turned, his long dark cloak billowing out as he moved away from the girl.

The female dropped her hand from her eyes and simply stared at The King. They were no longer in the labyrinth. It had disappeared into a purple mist.

"Enough, Sarah. You can awaken now. If it is the labyrinth you want, it is the labyrinth you will get. But I will not save you again."

The King gave the woman one last bow before he released the shoulder of his friend and left her dream behind.

* * *

Focusing on the royal bedroom around him, Jareth felt an odd sense of loss. His eyes turned to the girl laying on the bed. For a moment he looked on as she breathed in and out. She lifted an open palm to her forehead and frowned with her eyes closed. She would awaken soon.

The King felt a rough hand on his arm and he turned to gaze at the face of his friend. One look told him Grimblin Fry had seen the entire interaction.

"You released her from her sleep. At least we know her mind is healed, sire." Grimblin offered with a small smile. "Perhaps a little too well…"

Jareth didn't answer. His body moved to the mirror on the wall and he conjured the image that he sought.

The picture was not pleasant. Even through the glass, the stink was almost visceral. The King lifted a brow as the dwarf came into view.

The miserable creature screamed as his mouth filled with the putrid liquid and his nostrils flared for air. His body jerked within the limpid filth as he went under again and again.

Hoggle was drowning for eternity in the bog.

"She said he saved her." The King spoke, his deep voice full of doubt.

"Even a murderer can have a moment of good, if the right person is there to bring it out in them," Grimblin answered. He leaned heavily on his cane and watched the horrendous sight.

The King nodded once and the image disappeared.

He turned back to the woman sleeping on his bed. Two long strides brought him beside her. Jareth stared down for just a moment at her cold features. Then he bent and with a sweep of his arms, he lifted Sarah up. He pulled her to his chest, resting a hand on the back of her hair.

"My lady demands that she be returned to my labyrinth. Thank you, Grimblin, for your assistance." Without another word, The Goblin King was gone.

The old goblin wandered to his own cold bed. It would be a long time before he found his sleep. The human girl had left him much to think about.

As he laid down upon his hard wooden cot, the wise healer thought back to the images in the girl's mind, those seen and unseen by his King. He wondered if Jareth knew just what he carried in his arms.

Grimblin wondered if he knew what he placed within his labyrinth.

 **A.N I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers. Jareth has met his match! What are your thoughts on sleepy Sarah and her wild imagination? Let me know with a review!

I would especially like to thank Annibale, LovelyAmberLight, Whack-a-beetle, JerboatheSandwing, and MyraValhallah for their continued support! Kiai Ferrari (Welcome! Thank you for the amazing review). Also, the always brilliant Tek Sonay who continuously makes my day with your amazing work, and Redwood Manning (Wow! This review needs to be printed and put on my mirror for the affirmation! I have never read anything like it! Lol, it still makes me smile!Thank you!)

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting! -S.


	15. Chapter 14: Prince of the Bog of Eternal

Chapter 14: Prince of the Bog of Eternal Stench

There is no sleep for the drowning. When exhaustion overtakes the spirit, it must either go on or go under.

Hoggle knew his time was up. He would not be able to fight his fatigue for much longer. The weight of the foul currents pushed him below repeatedly, slamming against his face and skull. His lungs burned. The hooked nose that dangled from his face filled with the gushing green liquid. It traveled thickly down his throat, choking him. He coughed in vain, for as quickly as the pressure as relieved, it was replaced.

Hoggle blinked as the filthy reeking fumes reached his eyes. The pain was monstrous, but just on the fair side of mortal. That was the curse of the bog. The torture was without measure, but it would not kill. The Bog of Stench was eternal, as was the suffering it inflicted.

The dwarf felt his strength give way. His muscular arms cramped at his sides and his legs refused to kick. One more wave and he was going beneath into the Underground. The thought barely registered. Hoggle begged for his mind to give way to madness. It flickered, desperate to separate itself from the situation his body was in. But it would not do. Nothing could erase the swelling of his lungs or the ripping of his muscles as he fought the currents.

The final wave arrived at last, heavy with sludge. It yanked at his body, beckoning him to concede to his fate, The Underground. Hoggle gulped in one last rush of fetid air and felt his bones turn to stone. His limbs molded to his sides. He felt his head roll back and under. Fate for the dwarf had come to call. Not death, never death. Just the never-ending darkness.

His body was swallowed. The tenseness in his muscles relaxed as he gave himself to his quiet tomb under the water. The burning in his lungs gave way to numbness and his eyes closed to the liquid gas. _Life and death_ , he thought. _So close._ Now he would have neither.

The whooshing of the slime in his ears quieted. Silence, almost deafening in the darkness, enveloped the dwarf, as he drifted lower and lower, away from the surface. His mind stopped. It had to. The madness he sought had finally come and Hoggle almost smiled, greeting it as an old friend.

He sank for eternity, unable to open his mouth or eyes. His face became frozen. His stomach churned and ate itself, starved of food and water. His skin softened and became loose and frail.

The memory of speech left him, as did the remembrance of touch. Faces drifted away, pulled from his mind and floating off on the black currants. He could not recall his own image, though he tried. In his mind's eye, only the vision of large blue eyes remained. Hoggle focused on them as his body twisted and turned with the ripples.

 _Bluest eyes_ , he thought absently. They watched him as he dropped. They blinked in the darkness as his thoughts came and went in and out of focus. The blue seemed to swell when his madness left him and was replaced with a claustrophobic awareness of the darkness around him. He screamed and screamed at them, mutely begging them for the release of death.

Then the blue eyes changed. Their indigo shade began to lighten, subtly. The tiny flecks of gold within turned to silver and the rays of cobalt morphed to a stunning amethyst. Hoggle jerked away in the abyss. The kindness of his blue-eyed companion was replaced by coldness. He felt naked under the gaze, as though his every crime was laid bare. He tried to escape them, beating his head with a closed fist. It did not work. No matter where he turned in the bubbling malodorous Underground, there they were.

And they were coming closer.

The purple gaze touched him. He felt it and flinched as though burned. It was all around him, capturing him in its stare. _Hello, death_. He thought, not fearful of the thing that he had long desired. He turned his broken body to it, opening his arms wide. Then he was dead.

Or so he thought. The darkness left him in a flash of white and Hoggle flung his hands to his eyes, blinded. Then he began to choke. The liquid in his lungs pumped out of him in sprays of sickly green vomit. As Hoggle heaved he became aware of the ground beneath him. He felt his mind twist in dizzying vertigo. His shriveled fingers strained beneath him to hold up his weakened form. Then his body gave a pathetic shake and landed heavily in the dirt. He didn't drift off into slumber, but lay on the warm red dirt, convulsing in the heat.

He was aware that he wasn't alone. The eyes were upon him. As the quakes began to pass, the dwarf flopped to his back and stared up at the one whose gaze he feared.

"Hello, Hoggle." The King spoke, casually leaning to the side with his arms crossed.

The words meant nothing to the dwarf, though the sound was deep and melodic. Hoggle scooted back from the eyes and shook his head swiftly. _Those eyes. Those eyes._

"That is no way to address your King, Hoggle." Jareth admonished with a wry smile. "You act as if you do not know me."

The King bent and looked into the eyes of the dwarf as he began to grunt and sputter.

"Now, now. Silence is best when one has nothing better to say." With a finger to his own lovely pale lips, he silenced the dwarf instantly.

Hoggle's eyes widened as he realized he was suddenly mute. His filthy fingers dug at his throat and his mouth gaped open in silent pleas.

Jareth watched the pitiful creature, never losing his disinterested expression. Then, as though making a sudden decision, The King reached forward and touched him. The dwarf felt the touch in every pore. The heat spread out along his body in soft wisps of lavender. It warmed him. It _healed_ him. He felt his skin renew and refresh.

The stink from the bog rose from his flesh in gusts of putrid steam. His torso twisted as the magic wrung the filth from him. Then the purple winds traveled up to his face, to his eyes. His eyeballs widened as it approached and dove into his sore and painful orbs.

The change was instant. His mind returned in full. Words, faces, feelings. They were all back in a flash of violet.

"Highness." The word tumbled from his lips in a rush and he tasted the odd flavor on his tongue.

The King smiled his terrifying smile and nodded. "Much better." Then he stood again and waited for his subject to rise.

Hoggle took a brief moment and then stood shakily on his feet. He didn't look at his King. He couldn't. Fear overcame him like a great beast and the dwarf quivered before his ruler.

"Did you enjoy your swim?" The King asked in a deceptively light tone.

Hoggle knew that if he raised his eyes, the expression on his majestic monarch's face would hold no humor at all. He didn't answer, only shook his head and waited.

"Well, perhaps that is not a surprise." The King took a long stride forward and stopped before the cowering creature. "We have some things to discuss. Are you fit?"

Hoggle nodded and sniffed.

The King smiled crookedly and lifted a hand. The bogs were left behind in an instant and they were within the labyrinth walls. Hoggle blinked to focus and swayed on his feet.

"You were given a job, creature. It was an easy job for one such as you. You were to exterminate the spies and rid my labyrinth of their vile presence. And yet…" He paused and Hoggle cringed. "And yet, I find the spies alive and a human practically dead at my feet." Jareth's voice hardened as he spoke until his last words hammered like thunder.

Blue eyes flashed in the dwarf's mind. The human, he knew instantly. _Her_ eyes had been his only companion for his eternity in the bog. A rush of feelings came over him and the little brute did the impossible; he looked at his King.

Jareth tilted his head at the dwarf, taking in the expression in his eyes and frowned. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then, The King lifted a brow and a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"She said you saved her. I did not believe it until this moment. What could have inspired such a change?"

Hoggle frowned and licked his sticky lips. For a moment he struggled with remembering how to speak, then the words came out in a guttural whisper. "She were brave, the human. She saved me too."

He went silent and The King did not force him to continue. His royal eyes seemed to drift away and Hoggle breathed a sigh of relief when his gaze turned off to the distant walls.

Then a thought occurred to the dwarf and he spoke the words without pausing to think. "You said, 'She Said'? Does tha' mean the human is still livin'?"

Jareth looked down at the criminal and nodded. "She lives, stubborn woman, but probably not for long. She has refused to leave my labyrinth."

"Refused?! Crazy female!" Hoggle shook his head in shock and Jareth to let out a short laugh.

"I couldn't have said it better myself, Hoggle."

"Humans never had no sense."

Jareth smiled at the dwarf and crossed his arms. "True words. Sarah knows the dangers she will face but refuses to simply return to her own realm."

Hoggle scoffed and crossed his own limbs at his wide chest. "Ya' should make 'er. I'd send 'er home, lickety-split."

"Is that so?" The King drawled, running a finger across his lip.

"Take 'er there meself if she put up a fight!"

The dwarf huffed, distracted by his own train of thoughts. If he paused at all or looked at his King for an instant, he would have seen the wicked glare on his sire's face. But he did not, therefore it was a complete surprise when The King said his next words.

"It is a deal, Hoggle."

The little creature jerked up and frowned at his King. His thoughts ran back over his last words and he shook his head vehemently. "No, Highness. I never made no deals."

"No? It seems to me you did." Jareth smiled and rocked on his heavy black boots. The wind within the walls of his labyrinth blew hard, bellowing out his long black cloak in massive folds. He made an intimidating picture.

Hoggle shook his head and fell at Jareth's feet. "No, Sire, no. Never, never did I make no deal."

The King watched him with amused eyes and shrugged. "I was sure you had. I had even decided to make you an offer."

Hoggle stopped shaking his head and peered up at Jareth with weary eyes. With his shriveled hand pressed to his chest, he bit down hard on his lower lip. Then he whispered low, "A offer?"

The King smirked slightly and nodded. "An offer. You, for her."

"Highness?"

Jareth continued to explain. "You, for her. If you protect the human as she travels through my labyrinth, I offer you a gift." Jareth reached inside of his flowing cloak and tossed something back to the dwarf. It shined brightly and felt smooth on his palms.

"A crystal?"

The King laughed and beckoned him to look more closely. The image that looked back at him brought tears to his eyes. The dwarf pressed his nose to the glass orb for a closer look then turned to the King.

"Ya' would do this?" He asked, afraid to hope. Afraid the crystal would dissolve in his hands.

The King lifted his chin and his wonderful eyes took on an ancient glow. "You have my word, Hoggle."

A soft moan escaped the little brute's mouth and he felt tears fill his eyes. With a pitiful nod, he looked up at his King and wordlessly agreed to help the human.

In an instant, he stood beside the girl. Her face was peaceful as she slept. White as death, but peaceful. Hoggle frowned as he bent to get a closer look. She lived, the King was right about that, but she had changed. The difference was small but there none-the-less.

Hoggle jumped when he heard The King's mighty voice behind him.

"Help her, protect her. If she is killed, you know your fate."

The dwarf nodded and looked back over his shoulder. His body shook as he gazed into The King's purple eyes.

"Hoggle…" The King paused and waited until he knew he had the little dwarf's full attention.

"Highness?"

"If she reaches my castle, our deal is off. Am I making myself clear?" The light in those eyes burned white and Hoggle felt his breath catch. For a moment, the dwarf stopped and thought about what that might mean. He was to travel with the human but never allow her to reach her destination.

"A mean trick…" He whispered under his breath. Within an instant, his eyesight blurred and a vision of the bog filled his mind. He gasped and shook his head.

The King watched him with knowing eyes. "Your opinions are not required, Hoggle. Remember where your allegiance lies." The dwarf nodded hurriedly, "And Hoggle, if she kisses you…"

The King let the image in Hoggle's mind speak for him. The dwarf witnessed his own body came into view and watched it drowning over and over again in the murky green water. The vision was so real he began to shake and cough.

With a trembling hand, he reached out and waited for The King to grasp it. "We 'ave a deal."

The feeling of Jareth cool fingers on his own jarred him. In the next moment, Hoggle gasped when The King disappeared altogether.

The dwarf let his eyes travel to the sleeping woman and he shook his head. They had a long way to go, and nowhere, all at once. They might as well get started.

 **A.N. I do not own the** **Labyrinth**

Hello, readers. Take a breath. Unless you are floating for eternity, please write a little note and tell me what you thought about this swampy chapter. Do we have a deal?

I want to thank Annibale for writing. You are awesome and your review really helped me along!

As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting, it means the world to me! -S.


	16. Chapter 15: Red

Chapter 15: Red

Her long red coils dripped down her skin. She loved the feel of them grazing her bare back. Her slick, glistening lips lifted in pleasure.

A trail of scalding water trickled between her shoulder blades and she breathed the steam in deeply.

 _Silence_ , she marveled. The incessant talking had finally ceased for a moment and she was surrounded by beautiful, beautiful silence _. A moment to think!_

Her powerful brain ached and she dipped her hands into the soft curls of her hair. Her pale fingers played along the delicate bones at her temples and applied heavy pressure. Relief was not immediate and Circidella moaned in frustration.

 _His hands would be much better._

Circidella's smiled sensually as she closed her eyes and imagined his long white fingers in place of her own. _They would be cool, almost cold_ , she thought, shivering in remembrance. _And firm. Not gentle, never gentle._

Her pulse quickened under her skin. She recalled his face. _Perfect. Beyond merely perfect. No creature in all creation matched his silver splendor. No other compared._

Her mind raced and her breath hitched as his features danced behind her closed lids. _His delicious jaw that clenched when he touched her. His deep purple eyes._ She bit her lip and ran her tongue along the lush bottom edge. _How they darkened in his passion, s_ he thought, engulfed in the memory. Her heart raced and the pain of her head was forgotten. Her desire flamed and spread down her smooth stomach.

 _His mouth. Those exquisitely hard and fierce lips._ She could almost feel them gliding down the side of her throat. Her breath came out in a hot pant and she tilted her head to the side. Her eyes squeezed as the Jareth in her mind slowly tasted her neck, pulling her to him by her fiery curls. His hand delved and twisted the strands, exposing her tender flesh to his mouth and teeth.

" _My Queen!"_ The invisible King purred onto her skin and Circidella's body quivered.

"My queen?" Another voice broke in. It's high pitched squeak caused the distracted witch to flinch and frown.

That was not her lover's deep velvet voice.

Circidella growled low and opened her eyes. The crease between her brows pinched as she looked over her golden tub and at the female before her.

The wretched creature stood bent over. Her long and splintered form twisted into a bow. The witch sneered at her openly.

"I have never liked banshees. I find your appearance even more vexing than most." She spoke softly. Her voice lifted in the air above the steam and caused the temperature of the room to rise.

The banshee servant leaned forward again. "My queen, my queen! To displease you is to displease my own flesh, my queen!" Her brown unbound hair grazed the floor as she pressed her slender body further to the ground. The flesh she spoke of took on a greenish hue.

The witch grimaced as she watched the bones of the banshee's spine begin to protrude upwards. Anger and repugnance rose in Circidella's throat and it tasted of bile. She lifted her chin as she slowly began to rise from her bath.

Pride in her own beauty swelled beneath her full breasts and she looked to see if her servant admired her as well. The banshee was moving quickly, reaching for an elegant robe.

"No, creature. Look at me." Circidella ordered in a firm and heated tone.

The banshee paused immediately and raised her opaque eyes to her mistress. "My queen?" She squawked.

"Look at my skin. See how it glistens, pale and perfect, you grizzled, sallow beast. See how it dances in the light."

The servant did as she was told and nodded. Her queen's flesh _did_ shine in the light.

"Yes, my queen. You g-glisten." She spoke in a hushed twitter.

Circidella nodded in approval, moving her hands down her sides.

"And see, animal, how my body dips and swells?" She stopped and smiled cruelly. "As a female's body should. As a queen's should."

The weary banshee nodded. Her lashes swept down heavily.

Circidella stepped over the edge of the bath. Hot water swooshed over the black stone floors. The wetness ran down her curves and pooled at her feet. She did not notice. Her eyes instead slanted over to her skinny servant. Her lips pulled back in a sneer.

"Do you see yourself, banshee? I wonder, how do you walk, talk, _live_ with such hideousness? Are you not disgusted with yourself?"

The witch stepped forward slowly. Her naked physique slid like a snake and her stare took on a predatory edge. Her hands rose to her lips. The banshee jerked back as the queen's fingertips began to glow red. Circidella smiled darkly.

"Do you cringe at the mirror glass, banshee? Do you weep in your little pallet at night?" She waved her hand out and a trail of glittering, crimson light followed. Circidella's eyes flickered over the wretched female's face and she laughed. The soft, smoky sound swept through the thick air and caused the subject of her humor to cower.

"Do you?" She asked again, deliberately.

The banshee licked her chapped lips and nodded. "Yes, my queen." Her skin began to quiver over her visible bones. The hollows of her cheeks sucked in as she attempted to sink into herself.

The queen's eyes widened and her full lower lip pushed forward.

"Oh, poor ugly creature. Did you know I can make you beautiful? I can make you smooth and full, like a female? Soft and lithe? Touchable?"

She stopped and ran a hand up her bare hip. "Desirable?" Her eyes darkened to blackness. Red streaks rose from her body where her hands had been.

Circidella watched as looks of hope and fear filled her servant's eyes. She put her hand out as if to touch the little beast and waited as the pitiful thing reluctantly held out her fingertips.

She then threw her head back and laughed aloud. With a drop of Circidella's arm, a great sweltering breeze blew the banshee back. The witch giggled huskily as her servant hit the wall of her bath chamber.

"It will never be so, creature." She laughed once more.

The wilted banshee nodded mutely and scrambled forward again.

"My robe." Her mistress ordered and was quickly draped in the lush fabric.

The banshee was speedy in her work, first drying her queen, then slathering her hair with fragrance. The witch's shiny curls fell from the servant's emaciated hands like strands of red silk.

Circidella then donned a long black gown that appeared out of nowhere and clung to her perfect form like a second skin. She turned one way and then another in her gilded mirror before smiling a secret smile. She was pleased.

"Beast, are my generals assembled?" She asked lightly, gathering her thick hair over a single shoulder and straightening her gold and ruby crown.

"They are, my queen. I-in the Stone Quarter."

"Good." Circidella smiled sweetly and looked beyond her reflection to the wet floor. "You will clean this."

The broken female nodded and bowed again, breathing a deep sigh when her mistress left. With the queen went all the warmth in the room and soon the banshee stood in a puddle on the cold stone floor.

* * *

The gathering was silent. The fierce warriors looked anywhere but at their queen as what was left of the Fairy General crumbled into burning embers on the long stone table.

"Defeated! By a dwarf and a human!" The gorgeous female flamed. Her anger rose from in hot waves and those within the Stone Quarter swiped at the beads of sweat forming on their clammy skin.

Again there was silence.

Circidella turned her gaze from one general to the next. When none would meet her eyes she slid closer, placing a blistering hand on the first shoulder she came to.

Caremi flinched as his skin began to audibly sizzle.

"Tell me how, troll, since that pile of dust could not." She sneered at the fairy remains left behind.

"I not know, queen. We manning Barch. We not leaving Barch. 8000 troops trained, _honored_ to serve you." The troll general insisted. His large orange hand reached inside his satchel and removed a heavy parchment. As he began to unroll the paper the queen flicked her hand away in dismissal.

"I have no wish to see your list of names, General."

Caremi nodded and replaced the scroll with a sigh. The troll was quiet again. His wide shoulders hunched in failure.

Circidella looked away from Caremi. She peered up and jutted out two fingers like striking fangs. A stream of blazing fire shot out wrapping around the throat of the general to his right, Titux. His great head jerked and he clutched at his neck with clawing nails.

"Titux, tell me how a human entered the Labyrinth," Circidella questioned. Her voice lifted like smoke over flames.

"It's not possible, Queen Circidella." The giant gasped.

"No, it is not. And yet all but a handful of my celestial fairies are ashes and a _human_ is within the walls."

Titux sucked in a hot breath and shook his captured head. His attempts to speak merely came out in massive gulps of air. The queen growled and slowly released her magical hold on the massive creature.

"We, we must ask the survivors." He answered in a raspy voice.

The queen tightened her grip again and shouted. "There were none, idiot! Did you not hear the general? Even his messenger parished after warning him of the battle."

At this, the temperature rose even more in the room and steam filled the air. Drops of condensation began to run down the walls in rivets.

"My lovely queen." A shrill voice behind her spoke. Just the sound caused Circidella's spine to spike. Her eyes turned to the banshee general. Her grip never loosened on the giant.

"Yessss…" She answered in an almost snake-like voice.

The banshee spoke slowly, her gaze lingered on the light ring around her comrade's neck.

"If rumors are true, there _were_ survivors. They have hidden in fear of your great power. Perhaps I might gather them for you, my most divine majesty?" General Plitoon followed her words with a solemn bow.

The witch paused and dropped her fingers, releasing the giant from the death ring around his neck. Her eyes surveyed the banshee and her lips pulled forward in a slight pucker. Then her eyes lit up and Circidella smiled darkly.

"I have always liked banshees." The red queen hissed.

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello, readers. Is it getting hot in here? Give me your thoughts on this steamy bath and I'll promise more luscious memories of a certain king.

Let me thank those of you amazing readers who have stuck by my story and reviewed. AnonymouslyJoker, Redwood Manning, Ebony-Dove, Whack-the-beetle, MalevoLiss, Pandora Forsythe, MyraValhallah, Shasitaa (welcome!), Nicole1985, Thevoiceslockedaway, Feline Grace, pyxap, I Was Sarah Once, Sam, the charming Tek Sonay. Thank you all so much. You have revived me! As always, thank you for reading, reviewing, following and/ or favoriting! -S.

P.S. To I Was Sarah Once, first of all, what a romantic name! Secondly, in regards to your review, thank you so much for your kind words. As for your question, yes the physical aspects are different so that you can create your own Jareth and Sarah in your mind and not get confused with the storyline of the amazing movie. I want you to have as much choice with your imagination as possible and make this story your own. Correct away! :) -S.


	17. Chapter 16: The World Fall Down

Chapter 16: The World Fall Down

"Human. _Human_! Wake up!" The voice demanded.

Sarah plucked her eyes open in reluctant obedience. A small frown tugged her lips down as she left her dreams. She blinked twice, peered up, and then she jerked in surprise.

"Hoggle!" she gasped. This was the last face she had expected to see.

The dwarf appeared cross. His wide face scrunched as he flexed his beefy arms and the tip of his ruby nose swelled with air.

"Humph." He grumbled and turned away. "Didin' die, I suppose." He spoke, though his tone didn't indicate the slightest worry.

Sarah rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Her movements were measured as she rose to sit and gaze around herself. She was in the labyrinth, really and truly. It was very like her dream. The walls were impossibly high and sleek. They seemed to be at once both impenetrable and organic, like living stone. Sarah fought the urge to touch the surface again. Instead, she turned to the paths on either side of her. They stretched for as far as she could see and they did not bend or turn. Sarah sighed and looked back at Hoggle with clearer eyes.

"Didn't die." She agreed.

When Sarah moved to stand her legs felt wobbly and gel-like. She frowned and focused on setting herself upright. It was as if she had not stood for days instead of hours. "How long has it been since we were attacked, Hoggle?" She questioned, her voice as weak as her thigh muscles. Sarah watched his eyes take on a bizarre, faraway look before he spoke. His odd face hardened and his stare bore into hers with a strange intensity.

"A etr'nity." He said darkly, before suddenly turning and giving a snort and a laugh. "Or it do seem like that hinny-ways."

Hoggle bent to pick up a rock or two from the rubble covered ground. Sarah watched him for a moment then busied herself straightening her clothes. She closed her eyes tightly, refusing to contemplate how she came to be wearing the new fabric. The gold and blue silk pressed against her feminine form suggestively and Sarah silently cursed the responsible party.

"An understatement, I believe." She grumbled under her breath and cleared her throat. "Well, here we are."

"Yep."

Sarah pulled her lower lip between her teeth and placed her hands on her hips. _Now what?_ She thought. The warmth of the Sun burned through the thin fabric of her blouse and Sarah placed a palm over her brow as she looked toward the flaming star. Not the Sun, she reasoned with calm wonder.

The rummaging of the dwarf drew her attention back to the situation at hand and Sarah spoke. "I suppose this is goodbye, Hoggle."

Hoggle snorted and continued to gather rocks.

"I just, I wanted to say-" Sarah struggled to find the words to express the complex feelings coursing through her.

"Huh…" Hoggle breathed, staring at a large stone in his palm.

"I wanted to sincerely apologize for not heeding your warning, Hoggle. I put us both in danger and you…"

"Dern'd true, stubborn human." Hoggle huffed before pulling his hefty arm back and flinging his rock forward with remarkable strength. The copper stone exploded as it made contact with the labyrinth wall.

Sarah stood, mouth parted in surprise, as the lustrous red brick trembled ever so slightly. A low, vibrating echo rumbled down the empty corridor to her right and Sarah felt her stomach flip.

"I would not do that." She warned, slowly, as a cautious bell began to toll in her mind.

The dwarf hissed before moving further down the path and flinging another rock. "They's a openin', I kin feel it. Just gotta fine out where."

The rumbling echo deepened along the empty path and Sarah sucked in her breath. Sarah stared up at the huge wall and swore it swayed.

"Hoggle." She spoke his name, drawing from him a brief glance and eye roll.

Then, just as Hoggle prepared to throw once again, the rumbling roared and stones began to fall. Large stones, small stones, even tiny pebbles with sharp tips, fell upon the little man like hail. Sarah sucked in a breath of air before the crumbling dirt clouded around them in a fog of red. She pressed her body next to the wall but did not touch it as Hoggle yelled and dived to the ground at her feet. The dwarf covered his scalp with leathered hands. His voice filtered through the dust and Sarah heard more than one off-colored word.

Just as quickly as it started, it ended. The walls began to settle and Sarah gazed through grimy eyes at the new rocks that rested on the russet ground. She placed a hand on Hoggle's shoulder and noticed that it quivered. The dwarf looked up with a muffled "Hmm?" and seemed to breathe lighter upon seeing her.

Sarah turned her body to appraise the damage. The heavy stones lay about haphazardly with a few of the larger ones blocking the left path. Sarah sighed and moved to the large copper colored rocks. Placing a palm on the glossy surface of a rather heavy stone, Sarah laughed lightly and shook her head.

"I count us as even now, Hoggle." She said and then stomped a booted foot onto the rock. She moved with a slow pace but began to climb it steadily. Her breathing sharpened as she reached the summit of the angled boulder. Having met her destination she stood on her tiptoes and tried unsuccessfully to peer over the wall. It would not do. The labyrinth was too tall; in fact, it seemed to grow as she attempted to look beyond it.

Frustrated, Sarah glanced back down at the dwarf in the dirt. His face was lifted and his eyes watched her from below. In those eyes, for the first time, was something other than disgust or irritation. Before she could decide what the expression meant, Sarah saw something move at Hoggle's side. Sarah jerked in surprise and had to right herself quickly. There was a creature behind the boulder next to Hoggle.

Sarah couldn't make it out. From her height, it was so small. She just knew it was drawing closer to the dwarf. Sarah moved to speak but the words were stopped by a pleasant sounding voice from below.

"Ello."

 **A.N. I do not own Labyrinth**

Hello readers! I hope you have enjoyed this new chapter. Tell me, can you guess who the stranger is? A fire dancer? The weird guy with a bird on his head? David Bowie's magic pants? Ahh, genius readers, let's see if you can figure it out!

I want to thank you guys for reviewing and writing to me. You all get a glowing crystal! Especially: Whack-a-beetle, Anneige, ilove2runxcountry, ACorf, MyraValhallah, Solea, foxchick1, AnonymouslyJoker, fallingthroughhiseyes, my bud Tek and you gloriously glittery guest reviewers! You guys are amazing and encouraging. As always, thanks for reading, reviewing, following and/or favoriting. -S.


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